Dating Confessions by You "I think that tattoos are ridiculously trashy. I want another one though."
The Nerve Insider by Nicole Ankowski What's new in the Nerve universe. Today: What do hiccups and herpes have in common? Behind the scenes with Stuff Nobody Likes.
The first person ever to notice was my manager at Xando, which is now called Cosi, which is a chain of snappy little coffee shops that proliferated in the late '90s. I was twenty years old.
I was sporting what I thought was an Eddie Furlong haircut circa Terminator 2, but which was actually more of a Tony Clifton minus the lambchops. It was ridiculous, but I thought it looked great.
My manager said, "You growing that long now to make up for later?" Then he tipped his little black Xando cap in mock salute, revealing a scalp the tint and texture of a mole rat.
promotion
The worst thing about going bald is not that it indicates aging, or a decline in sexual virility or anything as silly and New Age as that. It's that it's part of the Big Competition. High salary? Add four points. Lame job? Minus one. Big dick? Add two. Going bald? Minus three. Today, the center-front of my hairline remains intact, but the two sides have been ebbing like a beach approaching low tide for nearly a decade.
Three years ago, it got bad enough that I couldn't fake it with a clever haircut anymore. By that time I was dating someone a few years my senior. He was also balding, and to combat this, he took Propecia, a once-daily pill you take to stop hair loss. I found it in his dresser drawer one day, with the anti-depressants. He'd told me about the anti-depressants, but he'd never mentioned the Propecia.
"Propecia?" I laughed. To me, twenty-six at the time, the very idea was hilarious.
I pretty much didn't think about the fact that he was bald until that moment when I did.
I associated hair-loss remedies with Sy Sperling and infomercials for fake hair in aerosol cans. He explained that he'd started taking it after his last breakup, afraid that if he went bald it would be hard to find another boyfriend. After he and I broke up, I started taking it for the same reason. It was like a family heirloom being passed down the line, except that instead of an engagement ring or a communion dress, it was a neurosis in the form of a prescription drug.
Half a year after that relationship ended, I met my current boyfriend. It wasn't until halfway through our first date that I noticed something interesting about him: he's bald! We'd met online, and this sounds disingenuous, but I pretty much didn't think about the fact that he was bald until that moment when I did — I guess I'd noticed it, but it didn't really register. He's one of those rare guys who pulls it off well. I don't know if he knows I take Propecia. If he does, he's never brought it up, and neither have I.
