A HOLE IN THE HEAD

Ben was frantic. Just a minute ago he was flying high. His great morning with his three best buddies culminated with hole in one on the 3rd, a birdie on the ninth and an eagle on 16, best lowest total ever, sixty eight. The group, partially thanks to Ben, set their own record of 3 hours of play on a Sunday. Jubilation all around.  Pridefully, he accepted the $15 donation from each of his friends for lowest score. That money would disappear ten times over when he had to sign checks for drinks because of his first ever hole in one. Immaterial.

After lunch they'd play Gin, laugh, recall many memories, but the guys all were going to shower and dress first. Ben opened his locker with his personal private number, ready to put his worn clothes away and that was when the day changed into a nightmare. The first thing that hit him in the eye and made him gasp was his hair piece, always, always on a styrofoam head on the top shelf was missing. The styrofoam  was there but no hair piece. The h.p. was gone!. He thought, who could have opened my lock? Why take my h.p.? Ben always left it in his locker because golf sweat would make a mess of it.

'Jerry, Bill, Sid!', he ran around the locker room, asking every naked man, every golfer getting ready to go to the pro shop, 'Have you
been to my locker today?' His friends looked at him as if he were crazy. Maybe he was.  He returned to his locker and took out every item, razor, after shave, lotion, deodorant, clean underwear, a rain golf jacket and an old magazine. Empty- no h.p. He put everything back except the magazine and even that he shook out and trashed.

The pats on his back, congrats on his ace, were acknowledged with only a nod. All of his happy excitement was gone. 'Come on, Buddy. Calm down. It'll show up. It didn't walk away. Let's play cards, have a few beers, eat some cashews.' 'Leave me alone guys. I am naked without my piece. I can't go into work tomorrow. Nobody in the office knows I'm almost bald!' His friends kept mum, never telling him how obvious it was this his camouflage was unnatural.

'I'm going home, Guys. I'm too upset to play. Harvey will be in soon and will be happy to replace me. Just be sure he knows it is just for this one time. OK? I'll be here next week, maybe with a new piece.'

Ben's car was brought to the club's entrance but he was oblivious. The valet had to honk the horn. The five minute ride home seemed to take forever. As soon as he unlocked the front door, his wife, Joanie, asked, 'What are you doing back so early? You look awful. Are you sick?' Ben said, 'I sure am. Somebody got into my locker and stole my hair piece. Maybe he thinks that is funny, but I don't.' He plopped down into his favorite lounger but it felt like stone. Conversation died. He didn't even mention his ace. 'Joanie, did you hear what I said? Somebody stole my h.p. I can't go to work looking like this. What can I do?' Joanie doesn't answer. 'Where the devil are you, Woman?' She came down the stairs, walked to him and kissed him on his bald head and from behind her back she handed him his treasure, his necessity, his hair piece.  'Ben, you left it on the mannequin head in your bathroom but I didn't find it until you were way out on the course. You didn't need it and couldn't be reached. What's the big deal? You have it now!'

'Ben, next time you look in the mirror, take a really good look. You look much better au natural than with that mouse on your head. Haven't you noticed, Bald is Beautiful. It's in!'  And he did look and did suddenly see himself as having looked foolish. He more or less hid the piece in a bureau drawer under some towels. It was like burying a former friend.

He called downstairs, 'Hey, Joanie, Guess what! I had a hole in one today and a birdie, won $45. Wish you could have been with me!'