I’ll fess up now and admit I’m no style or fashion icon. In previous lives I’ve been pretty dapper, now I can’t be bothered. As for my hair, though I confess I did once have it down to my waist, and I also had a splendid mullet in the 80s, I now have a Number 2 all over. This is a/ because it’s low maintenance, and b/ doesn’t make so obvious the fact that I’m grey as a badger.

My mate Kev used to be a heavy metal thunderer with hair to match, noticed one day he was shiny on top, and hacked off the whole lot, and shaves his head to this day.

I mention this because, while neither of us is in the first flush of youth, we retain at least a modicum of dignity. Unlike three guys we saw yesterday.

You all know my opinions on floppy haired playboy Premier League footballers. In particular I think a grown man wearing an Alice band looks a complete prat. The barman in my local has adopted this look, and Kev and I decided something needed to be said. We tossed a coin to decide who would do the deed, and Kev lost.

Then he did exactly what I would have done if our positions had been reversed, and dumped the blame on me, as I would have dumped it on him.

‘Here, J, Duncan thinks you need to lose the Alice band.’

Prior to this, a bloke I know and thoroughly dislike had come in. He’s a complete nobhead , and when he enters a crowded room the collective IQ drops by about 20 points. Worse, he has a Man Bun. He thinks he looks cool, and every other bloke in town thinks he looks like the nobhead that he is.

Then, to put the tinhat on things, we had the world’s most ridiculous syrup roll into Dodge. If you think TFF’s hair looks ridiculous, you should have seen this guy’s hairpiece. It was the stuff that dreams are made of. Geometrically straight parting (with clearly no scalp under it), quiffed back a la Noel Edmonds, and the icing on the cake was that it was all so badly made you could see the roll of the seams under his ears. Truly majestic.

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