Bald Men are So Sexy · Posted Apr 23, 11:10 PM by Todd Babiak
My brother and Cousin Brad stopped by the other night to take a motorcycle out of my garage. I had forgotten they were coming and had already changed into my Star of David shirt and pajama pants. So I went out with them, in my pajamas, and helped move the motorcycle. Cousin Brad’s truck wasn’t big enough so my brother tossed his keys across the alley and asked me to bring his truck around.
He LOVES it when I drive his truck. It’s unnecessarily huge, you see, and he thinks I am against that sort of thing.
Toward the end of our labours, my brother pointed to the top of my head and began to make sport of it. Like him, I am bedeviled by male pattern baldness. Our hero and maternal grandfather, Norman, had been completely bald by his thirtieth birthday. He was also colourblind. I am colourblind.
My brother has already begun shaving his head, to avoid any comparisons with Donald Trump and Bill Murray. I have not yet held a wake for my hair. But my brother and Cousin Brad really took the piss on Tuesday night.
Plow it under, they said.
At least you’re not fat, they said.
Not yet, anyway, they said.
Get fat! They said. It’s awesome!
Maybe get some ass hair transferred on to your head, they said.
At least you’re head isn’t retarded-looking*, they said.
The following morning, I secured an appointment with my hair stylist, Cara Lily. She poked around a bit. “No, you don’t have to shave it yet.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said.
She sized me up and scrunched her nose. It seems she isn’t convinced about my head. It might just be retarded-looking* after all.
There are options. Laser treatments for many thousands of dollars a year. Pills that make part of your ass fall off and render you erection-less for the rest of your life. Herbal remedies that cause eye bleeding and lip tremors. Ass-hair transplants that make you look like “that guy.” Then there’s whatever Matthew McConaughey did to make his hair grow back. I suspect he traded in his penis.
Or, OR, I can focus on things that make me happy. Ensure I always have spectacular suits and shoes, and never go outside the door in pajamas.
- I know retarded is a bad word. I’m quoting my bad brothers.
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