Being somewhat of a mondaine I called my stylist at the exclusive salon I frequent to freshen my coiffure…thankfully Tammy said Super Cuts was empty and I could get right in. I sat in the chair and listened to her recount her tortured childhood with appropriate “uh huh’s”, smiles and nods as she deftly utilized the number four metal clippers to restore my head to middle-aged-nearly-bald ordinariness. As my wife and I walked to the car she said, “She did a pretty good job, huh?”
Frankly, I didn’t notice.
You see, I have been getting the same haircut for the last thirty-odd years. I really don’t pay all that much attention; I mean, how bad can you screw it up when ninety percent of the work is done by clippers? At my age and weight no matter what I do to my hair I look like the captain of the bowling league anyway.
Afterwards I treated the little lady to Cold Stone Creamery for some ice cream. It is truly a magical, mystical place…a Mecca for the plump. The skinny little clerk asked, “What size would you like – ‘Like It’, ‘Love It’, ‘Gotta Have It’, ‘Feedbag’ or ‘Five Gallon Bucket’?” I got ‘Feedbag’ because I’m trying to cut back. I’m told there are secret ingredients in their ice cream that are highly addicting. I looked it up online and found out its fat and sugar.
Hi. My name is Dave M. I am a fat and sugar-aholic.
We headed home and took up position on our “his and hers” lounge chairs with matching laptops with content bellies and exhausted taste buds. While my gall bladder fibrillates uncontrollably I am satisfied; satisfied with my regular old haircut, satisfied with my lounge chair and laptop, satisfied with my wife and kids, satisfied with my home…satisfied with life.
I think I’ll go bowling to celebrate.