A State of Recession
by Kevin Wilder
It doesn’t bother me every blinking minute, but sometimes I’m reminded that my hairline is fading fast. Last night I was especially irked after two seperate people felt inclined to point out their thoughts on my hair. The first was merely a joking friend, whom I’ve pardoned because this guy actually knows me. Friends are allowed to make fun of one another and are usually careful enough to know which lines not to cross. I make fun of him too, he has his share of shortcomings, whatever. But after 15 hours on the job (yes- it’s true!), a bartender that recently quit (before I was hired) came in for some drinks. I said hello, he asked how old I was, and then was all like “Dude, you’re going bald. That sucks!” And then he laughed obnoxiously and kept on about it. I was so taken aback and uncomfortable in the situation that I’m not sure what else was said. Being sweaty and already irritable, I really failed to see the humor in this, and still do. Time takes its toll on us all, does it not? How can someone who’s only spoken to a person on one previous occassion feel permitted to comment on their hairline, or lack thereof? Yes, the cruelty in this world is unspeakable! What I WANTED to say was “Alright. So I’m going bald. It’s genetic, meaning I can’t control it. But you on the other hand are fat, which you CAN control. You look disgusting in this fatness of yours, so go lose some weight, asshole.” But I didn’t say this. Oh well. People can be jerks sometimes. That’s the world we live in. But I need to find a hairstylist quickly, since I’m kind of new to the area. When my hair’s a little shorter, it doesn’t force itself into natural combover-mode.