While I was there I passed a stand designed to promote some kind of fancy-pants-hair-straightening-miracle- treatment-thingameebob. As I passed, looking completely disinterested and focused on something else, the two women working the stand went BANNANAS.
It was like a kid seeing candy in the checkout isle.
Like a girl spotting her crush.
Like a rugby fan in 2000 seeing Jonah Lomu.
Like a sceptic seeing a crack in someone’s iridology theory.
If my startled reaction hadn’t been to leap backwards, eyes wide and alarmed looking, I’m pretty sure they would have had me on the seat and being wrangled with the fancy-pants-hair-straightening-miracle- treatment-thingameebob in an instant.
As it was, they kept a bit of distance but began hollering at me (at the same time).
“Oh my god your hair is Amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazing.”
“you would looooooove this product.”
“The curls are soooooooooooooo awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwsome”
“Do you love to straighten?”
“We can heeeeelp yoooooooooooooooooou.”
I vanished as fast as I could, trying very hard not to laugh.
One of the things I like very much with my curls is that I can deliberately appear homeless. If I don’t put product in it, it takes on a life of its own and develops a protective radius around me which strangers avoid.
I suspect they saw the hair and assumed no one would DELIBERATELY do that to themselves, and assumed they could save me from my ignorance.
Ha, I pity the fools.
The maintainance of hair that can look wayward and terrifying for doing chores, then look fab for tapas with my best friend tonight is ENTIRELY deliberate, and I feel sorry for you, only using your hair for good, not evil.
Embrace your inner anti-social hair, and enjoy the benefits you shall reap.
Shorter queues
Less annoying shop keeper questions.
No small talk (people assume you are having a REALLY bad day, and don’t ask)
People you know pretend they never saw you (see above)
Staff will help you efficiently without silly banter.
Clothing shop staff automatically direct you to the sales racks.
Brilliant. Have fun!
On an associated note, I went to go and put on make-up last night and couldn’t find my mascara or key pieces anywhere.
I found them in my work bag which I haven’t opened since I left almost three weeks ago.
No make-up in three weeks, and I didn’t even notice. I’m going to call it effective minimising of annoying chores while on holiday.
Mum raised a good daughter.
