Bad hair day

Usually my hair looks good. Usually, I look at myself in the mirror and think ‘Your hair is looking very good today, Tom.’ I always talk to myself as though I am someone else when looking in the mirror. When I’m generally thinking about things, without looking in a mirror at the same time, I think ‘me’, but when I’m thinking about things whilst looking in a mirror, I think ‘you’. I don’t know if this is strange or not, but that is what I do. I suppose that adds my reflection to the multitude of other personalities I have within me, only this personality is outside of me. Kind of. I’m still doing the thinking.

Anyway. Hair. Today wasn’t usual. My hair still needs cutting, so it does have a tendency to do what it likes at the moment. I was due to have a haircut last weekend, but couldn’t go because of that sore throat I had. I was going to go this weekend, but had to postpone it again due to the cough I have that reminds me of the sore throat I had last week. Maybe next week. I looked in the mirror this morning, and thought, ‘Tom, you really need a haircut. That looks terrible.’

Now, imagine looking at someone’s hair on a windy day. The way how it blows out and away from the head, but usually looks OK and natural. My hair did not look like this. Well, the hair behind my left ear did in parts, as it flicked dramatically outwards. I don’t know how I slept last night, but I must have permanently been on that side of my head. The hair behind the side of my right ear didn’t look as bad, but the back of my head felt lop sided. The hair on the left felt really heavy. I had to wet the hair to flatten it, but it was too strong. The flick returned.

The front of my hair just looked wrong. Long and wrong. So, I had strong, long and wrong hair.

And I had to go shopping.

And the shop was busy.

And I had the trolley with the wonky wheel. For dramatic effect.

And I could read all of the other shopper’s minds when they looked at me when we walked passed each other. I could see their eyes look at my hair, first at the front, and then at the back. The left back. The severe flick. Which by now had grown about fifty inches in length, and kind of looped around to resemble a big arrow pointing back onto itself. Well, in my mind it did, with all of these people looking at it. They were thinking ‘Look at his hair. Wouldn’t you think he’d get it cut? It is far too strong to be that long. It looks wrong.’ Lots of people were thinking this. Luckily for me, they had waited until I had gone into the next aisle before they started laughing.

One thing I had noticed was that everyone had short hair. It was like a conspiracy to highlight my flick. All of those shoppers had decided to go and get their hair cut so they were ready for this moment.

To highlight my flick.

After filling my shopping trolley, I paid for my things at the checkout. The guy on the till had short hair. Cropped hair. He pretended not to notice my flick, which by now was that long it was still in the aisles of the supermarket, trying to catch me up. I could see it snaking it’s way around all of the aisles I had been in. And it was now really heavy. Even heavier than before.

The guy on the till was ever so professional. He didn’t comment on the shampoo I was buying. He could have done. He didn’t comment on the styling gum I was buying. He could have done then too. But I knew he was thinking about my flick. It was on his mind. When I paid for my goods, he handed me my receipt, and said “Hair’s your change.”

I hurried out of the shop. Well, hurried in a way with a great weight pulling you back, whilst pushing a full shopping trolley with a wonky wheel.

Apart from that, I’ve had a quiet, relaxing day today. I like quiet Sundays. Even with bad hair. The bad hair makes the good hair even better, so I can’t complain.