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We're having a serious conversation, about replicating the micro credit projects we are respectively involved with into other countries, but the longer the conversation continues, the less I am able to concentrate. I'm passionate about supporting others in creating a life for themselves, but even as my mouth is speaking my eyes keep gravitating, slowly but surely, to the top of his head.

"Avert thy gaze!" suddenly holds no meaning and I try and concentrate on maintaining eye contact as we speak, hoping my words are making sense even though my brain is increasingly disengaged. I really, really hope he hasn't noticed, I so don't want him to think I'm staring or, even worse, for him to feel insecure, because so many men do, don't they, when they're bald?

But he was bald and proud of it. I could see he'd shaved off the remnants of that receding hairline. I wanted to ask him what products he used for that lovely soft sheen but even my big mouth struggled to find the words for such an intrusion. You see really, what I REALLY wanted to do was to touch it. I wanted to run my hands over the sheen of his bald crown and let my fingers linger over those dimples just above his temples. I wanted to know what that beautiful brown skin felt like, skin that was at once bold as well as vulnerable. I so hope he didn't see me staring.

When we said our good byes I watched him turn and walk away. I said I was waiting for someone, but really, I wanted to see the back of his head as well. And for sure it was not a disappointment. The slight shadow where it had been shaved. There was something both sensual and hard about the nape of his neck, small creases of skin at the base of his head that would otherwise have been hidden with hair.

So I admit it, there's something about men who have the courage and style to not need to hide beneath their follicles. It's more than just a fashion statement. It's the fact that they did it and the way they hold themselves. Some days I even find myself distractedly examining the shapes of mens' heads as I sit on the train . The ones with hair are not so interesting. It's the bald ones I like, the ones where you can really see what's going one under there.

Learn more about this author, Billy Jaan.
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