Bad Hair Day

This morning Scott and I went for breakfast to one of our favorite places, Lolita's. We were waiting in line to order, when I noticed a gentleman who appeared to be roughly 20 years older than myself, with jet black hair. I am not saying it wasn't his hair, because I am certain he paid for it. It looked a little like this.



Now when I say black, I do not mean the color of a black lab, I am talking about the black that represents the total absence of light, such as one might expect to associate with a black hole. It made me think about a sports figure that was in the news in past years.



Now I am not ashamed to admit to a certain amount of gray hairs, though I am not particularly proud of them. In fact, the gray was a large motivation behind shaving my facial hair off.

Before

After


Amazing what a shave can do for you, huh?

Anyway, if you ever see me wearing a toupee, combing my hair over a receding hairline, like this guy;



or (heaven forbid) growing my hair extremely long and weaving it around in an attempt to redistribute it over my dome, like this fellow;



please remind me about how hard Scott and I (discreetly) laughed this morning.

Oh, and if you were at Lolita's this morning, that wasn't you, it was some other guy.