Just For Men Gone Wrong

This morning at my place of work, I saw a well-dressed man with a cane walking down the hallway. Under his hat, little tufts of gray hair were poking out. He had a pencil thin mustache that was jet black. Jarringly so.

This is a man who really trusts Keith Hernandez, Walt Frazier, and Emmett Smith when they say, "No play for Mister Gray."

Someone should tell him that, if he's making the commitment to dye his facial hair, he should really do the same with his head hair. It's like the male equivalent of the carpet matching the drapes.

Now I'm thinking about this old guy's carpet, which I really don't want to do. Dear Lord, save me.