Ah, yes, the treasures one finds when one goes garage sailing . . .
Here's a sequence of pictures.
I found them in a gimmicky music box jewelry drawer thing with like this little display case in the middle featuring a dancing ballerina girl figurine-very giallo, right? I impulse bought it at a garage sale.
I'll show you the pictures in sequence.
The last one is the most important.
Here's the first one. Picture of a dude in a ball cap, dark glasses, rock t-shirt, cigarette between fingers in a shitty sports bar, holding up beer, while there's this old guy in the background with those evil red eyes you sometimes get in crappy pictures.
Next picture features the same dude in dark glasses, but without his ball cap, gesturing expansively in some nearly abstracted nocturnal space, glare of a flash reflecting off his opaque lenses. I think this might be outside in the parking lot of the shitty sports bar, it's got that vibe. Dude's obviously bald.
This third picture is the consequential one. So pay attention. It's a wedding portrait. Dude's in a tux. No ball cap. No dark glasses. His wife is a curvy stunner in an elaborate white dress, night black hair almost too sensual to look at directly without having thoughts of lust or envy or resentment or what have you. Empirically, she's a keeper. The barfly made good. Dude is bald as Telly Savalas, we know that already. But this is the first time we see him without the dark glasses. Which means this is the first time we see that instead of eyes he's got thick tangles of snow white hair poking out of his sockets.
Which makes me wonder . . .
Was I wrong to think this dude was bald?
Or was his hair just distributed differently?
