Everyone at work knows Rick dyes his hair, and no one's told him. At 47, I wanted fewer grays without being Rick.

I'd already lost a towel, one ear and a whole Monday morning to a box. Then my barber took a stick out of a drawer, did one side of my head and handed me the mirror. I didn't want to look dyed. I wanted fewer grays.

By Neil Garrity, Contributing Writer
Updated November 2026 · 7 min read

Rick runs accounts at my company. He's 58, and his hair is the color of a bowling ball. It has the same shine, too.

Everybody knows. The guys in the warehouse know. A customer once asked me, quietly, at a trade show, if Rick was okay.

Nobody has ever told Rick.

I used to think that was funny. Then one Saturday in March I went to buy furnace filters.

The kid at the register, maybe 19, rang me up and took ten percent off. I asked what that was for.

"Senior Day," he said.

I told him I was 47. He looked at me, then at the side of my head.

"Oh," he said. "Sorry, sir."

I went out to the truck and flipped down the visor.

Most of my hair is still dark. But both temples had gone, in two patches, and they ran right down through my sideburns. The rest of my head hadn't gotten the memo. I looked like I'd leaned against a wet white fence, twice.

As far as I could tell, I had two choices. I could be the guy who gets the discount, or I could be Rick.

So I bought a box

I drove to a drugstore two towns over, which tells you how I felt about it. Twelve bucks, Medium Brown. I did it on a Sunday with the door locked and the fan on.

It worked. That was the trouble.

Every gray hair on my head was gone, and every other hair had changed to match. My head was one color. I'd never noticed that real hair isn't, until I saw mine doing it. I also lost a good towel, and the top of my right ear stayed brown until Thursday.

Monday morning, Dave from purchasing passed me in the hall. "Nice hair," he said. He was kidding.

Then Rick came by my desk. He didn't say anything. He just gave me a little nod, like I'd joined something.

Two weeks later a neat white line came back at each temple. So I tried the comb-in kind that's supposed to leave some gray. That was better, but it's still dye, and you're signing up to do it every few weeks until you die.

I called a men's salon about gray blending. A nice woman told me $95, every six weeks, about an hour in foils. I pictured the foils and thanked her.

"Who did this to you?"

Sal has cut my hair for 16 years. He's 71, with the same three chairs for 44 years. I went in for a regular trim with five weeks of grown-out box on my head. He put the cape on me and looked at my temple for a long time.

"Who did this to you?"

"I did."

So I told him about the filters and about Rick. He nodded. Everybody's got a Rick.

"You know what's wrong with your friend?" he said. "It's not the color. Half the guys who sit in this chair color it, and you'd never know. What's wrong with him is he's 58 and there's no gray on him anywhere. Nobody believes that."

"And you've got no problem with gray. You've got two spots, so that's where everybody looks. Take a little out of the spots and leave the rest alone. Then you're just a guy with some gray."

"He's 58 and there's no gray on him anywhere. Nobody believes that."

He opened the drawer where he keeps the clipper guards and took out a short black stick with a little ridged comb built into the head. He twisted it up a hair. He ran it once down my left temple, lightly, the way the hair grows, and combed it through. It took about ten seconds, and he never touched the right side.

He handed me the mirror. "Now turn your head."

The left side still had gray in it. You could see it. There was just less, and what was left looked like it belonged there. The right side was still the wet fence.

"What is that?" I said.

"Hair color," he said. "It sits on the hair and goes down the drain when you shampoo. You don't like it, wash your hair."

He turned it around so I could read the name.

It's called, and I apologize for this, a Hair Dye Concealer Stick.

Yes, that's a terrible name. Ignore it. It's a twist-up stick of hair color with a comb on the end, and it comes in three dark shades. There's no ammonia or peroxide in it and nothing to mix, and it's gone with your next shampoo.

★★★★★ 4.88 from 253 reviews

"Go buy your own," Sal said, and he put it back in the drawer. "That one's Walter's."

Then I tested it on Jen

Jen and I have been married 21 years. She spotted the box in about four seconds, from across the kitchen, and she was very nice about it, which was worse.

The stick I ordered showed up, and I did both temples before dinner and walked into the kitchen. She looked up. She looked again.

"Did you get a haircut?"

I said I had, a week or so ago, which was true.

"It looks good," she said, and went back to her phone.

That was her entire review. It's the best one I've ever had.

Monday I went to work. Dave walked past me. Rick walked past me. Nobody said a thing. I've never been so happy to be ignored.

"Did you get a haircut?" That was her entire review.

Why it doesn't look like Rick

I went back to Sal for my next trim and made him explain it.

A box goes on everything. That's how you get one flat color. The stick only goes where you put it, so all the hair you didn't touch stays exactly what it was. The gray you leave is what makes the rest believable.

Then there's the line. Dye grows out, so two weeks later you've got a white stripe at your temple. This never grows out, because it's gone every time you shampoo. There's no stripe to chase and nothing to keep up with. If you skip a day, you're just back to your own hair.

And use less than you think. Sal's rule is one light pass and stop. You can always go back for a little more. He told me most guys go too heavy the first day because they want to see something. "You're not painting a fence," he said.

I ordered mine from the truck, in the lot outside Sal's.

Who it suits, and who should skip it

It comes in Black, Brownish Black and Coffee Brown, and that's all. If your hair is dark with gray patches, or you're salt and pepper on dark, it was made for you.

If you're blond, red or light brown, skip it. There's no shade for you, and it would look like exactly what you're afraid of. I'd skip it too if your head has mostly gone white, because there's not enough dark left to blend into. And if your hair is very short, more scalp shows, so Sal says go extra light at the hairline and check from the side.

Match the shade to your hair, not your gray. Between two, take the lighter one. Sal says black is what every guy reaches for and it's the one that gets you in trouble, so if your hair's really dark brown, go Brownish Black.

Ten seconds a side, then go to work

1. Do it on dry hair, after you've got your shirt on. Twist the stick up just a little.
2. Make one light pass down the gray, the way the hair grows, and stop before you hit skin. Comb it through.
3. Look from the side, not the front. If you still see more gray than you'd like, do one more pass, and then stop.
4. Keep your hands off it for a minute while it sets. I learned that with my thumb. If you're in a hurry, a few seconds with a hair dryer sets it faster.

At night it goes down the drain with your shampoo, so your pillow stays out of it.

The first morning, do what Sal did to me. Do one side, then turn your head in the mirror.

What the first month looked like

• The first morning: You do one side and turn your head. It takes about ten seconds, and you'll probably go too heavy. Wash it out and do it again lighter.
• The first week: You've got it down to one pass. You've stopped checking the side of your head in every window. It's held up through the gym and a hot afternoon, and when it got rained on hard you did a quick swipe after.
• The first month: It's part of getting dressed, about like deodorant. Nobody has mentioned your hair, and that's what you were paying for.

Back to the hardware store

I needed filters again in June. Same store, same kid. I'd done my temples that morning, same as every morning.

He rang me up and told me the total. I looked at the receipt in the truck, and I paid every cent of it.

I've never been so happy to pay full price for furnace filters.

BeforeOne pass‹ ›

One light pass and a comb. Drag the circle to compare.

How it stacks up against what I tried

Love your gray already? Good for you, close this page. I only wanted less of it.

What I heard in Sal's chair

Once I knew what was in the drawer, I started asking. Sal won't give up names, but Walter doesn't care who knows.

★★★★★ 4.88 from 253 reviews

How I'd start if I were you

You buy it direct, from its own page. One heads-up before you tap. That page talks mostly to women and gray roots, and there's a good chance a woman with a stick at her part is the first thing you'll see. It's the same stick. Further down there's a shade note for men that says what Sal said, use a light hand. I read it on the couch with my thumb over the top of the screen.

I'd start with three. One stays in the bathroom, one goes in the gym bag and one goes in the travel kit, so you never get caught on a road trip with your own head. Three cost $59.98 and last about 2–3 months. That salon quote was $95 for one visit.

If you've got the holiday party or family pictures coming up, it's delivered in 10 days or less on average, so I'd do this now.

The guide is a short PDF with a section for men on temples, sideburns and how light to go. The shampoo bar takes the stick out at night, and your hair looks darker wash by wash.

30-Day Happiness Promise · Free shipping over $50 · Delivered in 10 days or less on average

What I wanted to know

Rick stopped at my desk last month. He stood there a second, looking at me.

"You look good," he said. "You been working out?"

I said a little. He nodded and walked on, with that head of his.

Everyone at work knows about Rick. Nobody has told him.

Nobody knows about me.