Alright gang. Pandemic and bald head be damned, I am going on a first date tomorrow.
Yessiree bob. Social distancing will be observed (a walk followed by drinks on my deck—six feet of separation).
Truth? I am way nervous. Despite my flagrant display of said bald head in my current online profile, this is my first date ever sans hair.
Our coif. It defines us in so many ways (bad hair day?). It hides a multitude of sins—or at least it feels that way. Being bald is sort of like being naked times 100. Little wispy hairs on my head, no eyebrows, one eyelash—itself an outlier. Let’s hope my dazzling smile and personality shall provide enough distraction.
Were this individual not so compelling I would not put myself out there. However, we have so very much in common and are in total agreement that a pandemic with a partner sucks way less than one without. So, if sparks fly, I will potentially expand my bubble. Wish me luck y’all. Breaking some new ground here. In the unlikeliest of circumstances.