Tee Treatment Time

A psychiatrist might have a lot of fun with me. For the first time in a couple of weeks I got a good night's sleep. I slept all the way until 5:30 and was excited to see those numbers blinking back at me this morning.

And I felt better all day. There have been a lot of long days recently, so I hit the ground running. What did I want to get done?

Then it hit me: A Tee Treatment after getting my hair cut.

Any Super Cuts enthusiasts out there?

I settled in the chair on my way home from work. The young girl looked at me quizzically.

"How do you want it cut?" she asked.

"What in the hell can you possibly do with it?" I asked. "You have free rein...just make it short."

The gray hair started to fall.

"You can color it," she said.

"Most of my friends have seen the gray," I said. "The cat's out of the bag. I color it now and I'll look like a freaking idiot."

"You are 80 percent gray," she said. "The ship has sailed. What about your eyebrows?" she asked. "Would you like them trimmed?"

"Considering that I have to part them, sure," I said. "They get in my eyes when I'm driving."

She laughed. "Did you ever think about waxing them?"

What am I Anthony Weiner all of a sudden?

"Do your best," I said.

"The sideburns?"

I looked sideways at her.

"Just use my own judgement, right?" she asked.

So, in a couple of minutes we were done.

"How about a shampoo?" she asked.

If I had a tail it woulda' been wagging.

"Yep!"

I sat in the chair with the hot towel over my face as a twenty-something girl, who most likely dreamed of a lot more, rubbed my scalp with the shampoo that makes it tingle.

"Why does it feel better when you shampoo my hair?" I asked.

"I know what I'm doing," she said.

Indeed.

Feeling good I picked up a few new golf tees and a dozen golf balls. The veil of aggravation was lifted for a few moments.

And the friggin' eyebrow hairs didn't distort the drive home.

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