Britney Spears called early this morning, waking me from a post-neutropenic fever slumber that had left me sweaty and exhausted. I had not seen the morning’s news yet, and was surprised to hear from her so early in the day…
Britney: Good morning, Bald Mike, B.S. here (B.S. is what she likes me to call her).
Me: (interrupting her) Britney, it’s 8am here and you know I am in the hospital with a neutropenic fever. What’s going on?
I figured it was going to be the tale of another one of her wacky escapades. Getting drunk with Paris. Meeting some sleazy guy at a club. Waking up hog-tied next to Condi. Ever since she had found baldmike.com and tracked me down she’s called every day. She really is a sweetheart. Just a poor, lost girl who can’t help but be taken advantage of.
Britney: (Ignoring me, like she always does) I just wanted you to know that I finally did it. They may say I am crazy, on drugs, and that I ran out of rehab, but I wanted you to know that I did it for you.
Me: (barely able to stay awake) Did what? Jeez, B.S. what did you do?
Britney: I shaved it all off… All of it.
Me: I thought you did THAT for Justin or Kevin or whoever?
Britney: (shocked and laughing) No, not there… My head. Bald Mike, I shaved my head, and I did it for you.
I couldn’t believe it. I had read stories about family members and friends shaving their heads in solidarity while a loved one went through chemo, but B.S. shaving her head for me. Come on. No way.
Britney: Listen Bald Mike, I know this might come as a shock to you, but get over yourself, the bigger shock is going to be the look on my manager’s face when he gets wind of this. But don’t worry, we’ll both be fine. I just wanted to do something for you knowing what a rough time you are having.
Me: Well, thanks Britney, I don’t really know what to say.
Britney: Just say thanks. And pray that this doesn’t ruin my career.
Me: Well, thanks, B.S. You continue to surprise me.
Britney: Don’t mention it. Just looking forward to April when your hair comes back so I don’t have to look like Sinead O’Conner any more.
Me: Me too, Britney. Me too.
Britney: Get better soon, Bald Mike. You are almost through this. You’ve done great. Just two more rounds.
Me: Thanks Britney. I won’t forget this. But let me go back to sleep now. I am exhausted.
Britney: No, problem. Time for me to hit the tattoo parlour. There is a 12-year-old kid in Cleveland with hypertrichosis who I promised a very special tatoo. Gotta run. Rest up, Bald Mike. Bye.
As I drifted back to sleep I worried about how the press and paparazzi would now stalk Britney, not believing that the real reason for her head shaving was a generous one. I felt sorry for her and only wished she would take better care of herself and her career, and that she could be better known for her good deeds. Celebrity is rough. Hopefully she’ll get her act together. Hopefully.