I went to a hair salon for little old ladies when I decided I needed to color my gray hair. I had tried Just for Men and it gave me a hair color not found in nature. The salon was in the Preston Hollow area which is very affluent. The salon had been in operation for 40 years and most of the clientele had been young housewives when the shop opened. When I arrived, I was given coffee and my stylist (a friend of mine) came over to tell me one of the hair washers would be ready for me shortly (hair washer?). It didn’t take long to notice I was the only man in the place with the exception of the stylists. I was still in my perky fifties at the time and was about the youngest person in the salon including clientele and staff. A lady soon came to escort me to the back of the salon where about ten sinks were arranged along the wall to wash hair. Each sink was the work station for an individual woman and these ladies were busily washing hair for various clients. I was taken to a woman who hung one towel over my shoulders in the front and another in the back. She then leaned me back to begin washing my hair. I don’t know about other guys but I felt very uncomfortable leaning backwards while my hair was being washed. I think men still have a protective instinct to protect their junk. My boys felt extremely vulnerable because of the complete lack of protective cover. I couldn’t wait for that part of the process to be over. I made a mental note to pick up a thick magazine to provide minimal protection if I ever came here again. With hair that was squeaky clean and towel dried, I was returned to my stylist. He put a plastic apron on me decorated with curls of hair and bobby pins. The apron could be described in many ways but masculine was not one of them. He cut my hair and applied hair dye that had an unpleasant acrid odor. I was then escorted to yet another area of the salon which was the drying area. I was placed under a very hot dryer for what felt like hours. When my scalp was well done, my friend came for me again and took me back to his chair. He gave my hair a final trim and combing and I finally got to check out. I have to admit the look was great and I went back two or three times. The process was too long and arduous for me and I soon returned to grey. I once asked for a Saturday appointment and was told one of the regular clients would have to die first. Looking around the room, that shouldn’t take long.