If you took a magic marker and drew a line from the back of my head to the front, bisecting my scalp, it would denote the areas of my scalp where hair grows, and where it doesn’t.
For years, hair has grown on the right side of my scalp, but not the left.
Several years ago I decided I didn’t like that particular look and I shaved the area until I had a fairly symmetrical doughnut cut.
Since then I have owned by baldness proudly.
Never was I so proud of my fleshy pate than on Monday when I went out to eat with a friend at Western Sizzlin in Jacksonville.
On the marquee in front of the restaurant were the words “Bald Head Day.”
Well, cool.
We walked in and wandered to the order area, where we settled on the buffet. I paid. A sign behind the cashier said the bald-head discount ranged from 25 to 50 percent.
My friend asked the teller how much of a discount I got. “The full 50 percent,” she said, noting that I was pretty bald.
My friend snorted.
The people behind us in line, who I did not know, offered up their assessment: While I was undeniably bald, I did have some hair. They had seen balder.
First time I’ve been accused of not being bald enough. Not sure of how to respond to a stranger’s assessment of my baldness, I paid and went on to enjoy my meal.
Now if they’ll come up with a fat-guy day and a corrective-lenses-required-to-drive day, I’ll be all set.
I’ve still got a year to go before I officially become eligible for senior-citizen discounts.
I wonder if I could combine that with the bald-head discount.
I could eat for free!
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