hair we go

i realized recently that i have quite a large bald spot growing on the top of my head.

in all actuality, i hadn’t realized it at all. my father was the first one to notice, and he nearly had a heart attack. upon noticing, he quickly arrived at several wide-ranging conclusions to account for the recent loss of hair:

a. i must be doing drugs
b. i must be low on vitamins
c. i must be having a lot of sex
d. i must not be eating right
e. i must not be getting enough rest
f. i must quit my job immediately
g. etc. etc. etc.

now, the amazing thing about these conclusions is neither the fact that most of them have little or nothing to do with hair loss, nor the fact that none of them are true. what is amazing is the fact that he arrived at all these conclusions in less than a minute, and therefore set out to counter each of the conclusions by themselves. he began by nearly shoving large quantities of food down my throat, and quickly followed by ceasing to complain about my sleeping habits. had we been a less conservative family, i’m sure he would either have bought me condoms or preached about abstinence.

it doesn’t bother me that none of his conclusions were true in the least. it does, however, greatly bother me that his entire reaction sequence was pretty much an act of closing the gate after the horse had already bolted. let me tell you something about my father: you can count the number of hairs on his head by using the fingers of one hand. in fact, my two-year-old nephew, who can count upto ten only, loves to sit in my father’s lap and count his hairs, because the hair is one of the few things in this world that actually number less than ten. having passed on the baldness gene to me already, i find it quite disturbing that he’s now fighting to avoid what is definitely my future, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

therefore, if you love my writings and feel i would make a great husband, marry me now before i am left with less than ten hairs.

my boss had a better way of dealing with it. i went to him and told him that the number of projects he had assigned me were causing me a lot of stress, and that it was leading to my hair falling out. in his own infallible, selfless way, he did what any caring and compassionate boss would do to a stressed employee: he gave me more work.

my sisters have the knack of developing attention deficit disorder whenever i start talking about my problems with them – whether it loss of hair, piles, projectile vomiting or erectile dysfunction. as soon as the magic words “hair loss” had exited my mouth, one of them sped off to shout at her children, while the other accelerated in the other direction to see if her cooking was being burned.

i must admit that i am not worried. i read somewhere that women find bald spots to be sexy and a sign of sexual libido. i didn’t need to lose hairs to tell anyone that: anyone with a slightly moderate hearing ability would no doubt already know that.

although i must admit that these desired effects from women are yet to be observed. however, i will wait patiently. if necessary, i will lose more hairs, just so that women want to bang me. i know, it is a great sacrifice that i am making for humanity, but if leads to banging, i’m all for it.

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