It didn't cost me a dime

For the entirety of the nine-plus years I sat by Chris Shull, I begged him to cut his hair. It's not that he didn't look good with a ponytail, I told him, it's just that he could look so much BETTER without one.

He always said the same thing: "TALK TO CHARLA!"

I never had the guts, though I did have a deal with Chris that if I ever won the lottery, I'd give him $10,000, and the ponytail would die.

Then, last Friday, this picture landed in my cell phone.

I don't know whether to be thrilled that I've finally gotten my way or angry that I didn't get it until I could no longer enjoy the results.