“You know you can take a pill for that.”
“That,” he said, pointing at my hair. “To make it stop.”
I stared blankly at him. “You mean a pill for baldness.”
“Yeah. It makes it stop as long as you keep taking it.”
My old roommate Chase has never had an oversupply of tact, but he does occasionally hit on something worthy of further thought. There exists a variety of treatments for balding, and many of them could combat what is clearly identifiable as a receding hairline. A little pill everyday to keep my hair the way it is. Why not take it?
In my estimation a full head of hair is good for two things, both closely related:
- Picking up chicks (+/- keeping them around).
I feel comfortable positing that a man whose confidence depends on his hair isn’t really a man at all, and relying on your good looks to get and keep a girlfriend probably won’t get you the really good ones. My opinions aside, hair research and the general fight against looking older are big business, and in general all boil down to the same problem. People don’t want any reminder that certain periods of their lives eventually go away (like being young).
I’m 24. I’m young now. If I want to reap the benefits of being young, I should do it now. If I want to return from the summit I just climbed, rip off my skis and clothing and jump right into a hot tub with three Swedish snow bunnies, I need to do that now. If I want to drink too much, pick up chicks in bars and make bad decisions, there’s no time like the present.
People are slackers, and the desire to keep your head of hair for later use is just that. It’s slacking. “Well, I don’t know what I want to do with this head of hair yet, but someday I’ll have a really good plan and I want to still have it then.”
I’m not bitter about it, I’m just not worried. The only women I’ve ever nabbed have been through qualities completely unrelated to my physical appearance, and it’d be foolish to assume that would somehow change.
In closing, one day I hope to have a *great* personality.
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