Well, I took a step toward covering my dreadful hair.
I purchased what my mother would call a "wiglet." Just a little mammal to perch on top of my head and cover my now-significant bald spot. Sadly, it also has heavy bangs.
I have named the wiglet Moe, for obvious reasons.
Moe may or may not be going back to the wiglet farm. I was expecting Gary to mock me, and he didn't.
So far Moe has taught me that no one with human hair as thick and shiny as Moe would ever need a wiglet. Also, the clips that attach Moe to one's own hairs are pretty durable; I could take Moe to the Mosh pit.
I'm still on the fence about Moe. For the time being I can dodge the question of the wiglet reveal. How do you let people know you are wearing fake hair?
I considered a Zoom background with arrows pointing to my head that say "FAKE HAIR" and "SHHH" and "DON'T STARE AT THE HAIR."
It made me wonder how wig reveals happened during history. Let's say the 60's, when Mom was 30 and rocking her wiglet. Did my Mom wear hers with defiant pride, her eyes daring her co-workers to say something? Or did she wait until the first day of a new job?
I don't know. Gary really surprised me by not doubling over in laughter. I would feel better if I could thin out Moe's luxury, make Moe look 50 instead of 20.
Perhaps I could buy Moe a brother. Maybe Curly!