When I was a baby, I had no hair, and people seemed to like me.

When I was 14, I had no hair, and nobody liked me.

Of course, I wasn't a lesbian, and I didn't know very many lesbians, so maybe that was the problem.
I would, in an attempt to add a little clarity to this subject, recount a fable of sorts, told to me by a very wise man many years ago.

Our story concerns two young lovers - we shall call them Jack and Penny. Jack and Penny are, like any two in puppy-love, happy and excited. They dote, and they talk, they are inseparable.

But things slowly change between our two lovers. It is nearly imperceptible; surely neither one blames the other, but both are slowly feeling that relationship is stagnating. The old habits are becoming dull. Both feel almost trapped in a boring routine which has lost its magic.

So our faithful heroine Penny decides that she needs to do something new, something dynamic, to break out of this rut. She doesn't want to lose Jack - she cares about him deeply. She needs to inject new life and spark into their relationship. She hits upon it: shave her head. Like all teenagers, she is very concerned with image. She thinks, if she can acquire a new image, perhaps she may acquire a new routine as well! Dear readers, she was soon to be proven wrong.

Nevertheless, our plucky heroine goes through with it - she shaves till she has a gleaming bald pate, proudly shined for all the world to see.

The night - that very night - arrives that she will show herself to her lover, sadly ignorant of the horrible change which has transpired, for the first time. Her heart races with swift emotion as her parents drop her off at his door. She advances, barely able to contain herself, her steps at this point nearly trembling. One, two, three steps. She stands at the threshhold. With a burst of adrenaline, she presses the doorbell.

He is there in seconds. he throws open the door - and lets out a yelp of shock and indignation. He stares, gaping, at the monstrosity before him. For 5 yawning seconds a dialog too heartbreaking to recount goes between their eyes. Wordlessly, he slams the door in her face and goes, shaken, back up to his room to masturbate.

In the days that followed, the relationship was made short work of - with a series of bitter and sad phone conversations, the young lovers were no more. I can only say this, dear readers: let this be a lesson to you. For, in truth,

A Penny Shaved is a Penny Spurned.

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