Things never happen like you think it will

When I was younger, I told virtually all my ex-girlfriends and even my wife, that if I went bald I’d do it with dignity and never do a combover or try to put off the inevitable by using those creams that keep my hair. I’d just keep it close cropped around the sides and proudly show off what nature has in store for me. And never, ever do the combover. I was saying this because mainly my dad, grandfather has a full set of hair. My maternal grandfather didn’t lose his hair until her was closer to his later fifties, early sixties. 

At best I was boasting that I was someone who would walk with their head high as I aged. In my mind, it was a statistic, and those never happen to me. 
Now I’m thirty and am seeing signs of thinning hair at the monk spot, I’m starting to rethink my stance on those vanity creams for hair. Really rethinking it now. I don’t mind the idea of going bald, but not right now. 
I’d never stoop to a combover, those look ridiculous and never get why people do them to begin with. Nothing like looking like a seventies lounge lizard/pedophile. OIly and slithering to everything with tits and hips, the suit of aged on. And the combover that complete this little ensemb, perfectly and meticulously spread over the scalp. The body hair slowly creeping out of the suit. Almost as if at will, trying to head to the head for make the combover look natural. 
I’ve noticed that my head is getting a bit oily. And when I look at it with a mirror, it was tanned. TANNED! Your head should be white. A place that, despite being the closest to the sun, unless your a pornstar, should be the whitest thing on your body. It’s tanned and it’s freaked me out a bit. 

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