Too grey or not too grey

In a solemn tone that would have been more appropriate for a doctor about to tell the dashing hero of the movie that he had life threatening cancer or a sidekick telling the above mentioned hero that his house along with his dog was going to be blown up by terrorists, or both, my friend slowly said me "You have grey hair!". It sounded like the curse of our forefathers was upon me, the end of the world was near, the sky was falling blah blah.


"Of course I do" I replied nonchalantly, "I’ve had greys for quite some time now. Ive just stopped getting rid of them". I watched her eyes grow to the size of saucers and worried they might pop out I proceeded to explain "It gives me a distinguished look. And women these days like men who have that sophisticated air. Right?"


"I don’t know who feeds you all this drivel. We women like nothing of that sort. Grey hair does not make you look smart at all. All it does is make you look old. Like our uncles. We don’t want to be seen with old men. Except our Dad's of course .... You should dye your hair or cut those grey hairs off ASAP if you want to find yourself a woman. Otherwise you can continue to remain single!"


As I pondered on the benefits on continuing to stay a bachelor for the next few years, it dawned on me. "What about George Clooney?" I enquired. "Oooooh, I’ve had a crush on George Clooney since like forever. I could go on a romantic dinner date with him followed by a walk on a moonlight beach and .... "


"But he has grey hair and hence looks old" I interjected before the details became too embarrassingly mushy. "Rubbish, he is perfect. He's so smart, so handsome, so so so what is the word I’m looking for ummmm yummy." Gross! "But he is old enough to be your Dad" I added, trying to fuel the fire. "Nonsense, we would make a perfect couple, George and I. Neil, can you imagine the perfect wedding George and I would have, our sons would be so handsome and our daughters would be so beautiful ...."


"But hes got grey hair!" I exclaimed as I realised logic had made a hasty exit a few minutes back. "How can he be perfect?"


"Shut up, you’re just jealous" she said as she walked away with dreamy eyes as visions of little Georges running around her filled her happy mind. My mind, on the other hand, was still reeling from the conversation. It was almost as if I’d been sucker punched by Mike Tyson. Was I better off with grey hair? Or was I supposed to not have grey hair. None of it made sense any more.


I ran my hand through my hair as I looked at myself in the mirror. Maybe I could go bald. Like Andre Agassi. I’ve never tried that. Im sure women would dig that. I think I should talk to my friend about it. As long as she doesn’t start dreaming about pushing Steffi Graf out of the picture and starting a family with Andre ….