Friday, October 20, 2017

One Black Hair...

I'm extremely follicularly challenged. I have been since college.

Fair-haired, near a red-headed step-child, my hair loss was more the obvious for it.

My dad, a fellow member of the follicularly challenged team, used to try and coax me into applying the ol' trusty comb-over, something that fooled no one. But I just couldn't do it. No more than I could wear my pants up to my nipples, another strange peccadillo of my Dad's. But I digress.

Anyway, I said the hell with my hair loss, embraced it fully. I shaved the donut of hair off. Slick as a baby's bottom and proud of it.

I was just fine with it. Even got compliments. At Walmart of all places, some fellow baldist asked what I waxed my head with to get such a sheen. I said, "Um...sweat?"

But then Fate, the quirky, mean ex-girlfriend that she is, decided to play with the status quo. 

Recently I woke up with a single black hair poking out of my ear.


Not only have I never had black hair, but now I had a strong, sharp wire growing out of my ear lobe! Huzzah! A miracle! Better than pizza slices that resemble Jesus.

Except...not really.

What if I turned into a human porcupine, prickly black hairs sticking out everywhere? May as well sign up for the traveling freak show now. Or I might transform into a Chia headed creature, something out of a '50's horror film! 

With my fair complexion, I'd probably look like a freaky Bond villain.

(Me: "You see, my dear Mr. Bond, it's my intention to unleash my porcu-hair bomb onto an unsuspecting world!"

Bond: "Not if I have anything to say about it, Prickly-Ear!"

Me: "Oh, shut up, Connery! Everyone knows you wear a toupee!")

Bah. Hair's overrated.

For even stranger aberrations, click here for my newest book, Peculiar County.

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