Image by JonJon2k8 via FlickrHis phone was on vibrate. It spun around on his desk when it rang, and if it pointed at him when it was done, he answered.
"Hello," he answered (it landed on him).
"No. Sorry, you must have the wrong number."
"That's what I meant to say, sorry. I'm with the Hair Club for Men."
"I have a full head of hair, thank you, and this is my cellphone you called. Bye."
"--wait! Mr. Jones?"
"One of our members found one of your hairs on his suit last week, and figured he must have encountered you in an elevator or something, and that's how we identified you."
"From my follicle?"
"Yes. We have a lab that can narrow a person's hair down to his race, gender, sexual preference--even his address. We tracked you down to Elm Street based on the cobalt mine near where you live. You might want to let your doctor know that you have trace amounts of nickel and chromium in your system. The real reason I'm calling is because you're losing your hair, albeit slowly. Therefore, our president would like to make you a special offer of 30% off your first treatment, followed by a 25% discount on your second, followed by a 15%..."
"Just last week I was complimented on my hair by someone."
"We understand. Over time, though, you'll notice the compliments getting less and less. That's why we're here to help."
"How much does it cost?"
"We base it on the popularity of the person when he receives his hair. Right now, you're popular, so it won't cost you as much as a loser who gets a 1500% boost in popularity. It will cost you more, though, the longer you let it go."
"So, we'll schedule you for an appointment next Thursday at 2:45 pm. Bring a sample from your shower drain and also one from your pillow."
"It was nice talking to you, Mr. Jones -- and remember, long hair is coming back for men, so be sure to tell all your friends."