Bad Hair Day

I woke up this morning with my hair literally standing on end...and it was late...and I had to put the garbage out immediately. I frantically threw on a robe and tried desperately to push my hair back against my head so I wouldn't scare the neighbors. As I rushed the garbage to the road I was thankful for the morning fog.

Women have always been fussy about their hair. When I see the odd lady with straggly, uncombed hair I just can't relate to her. I start fantasizing about her life. She must be depressed or have an abusive mate. She must have been brought up in a hovel and not know it's important to present a better image to the world. I just can't accept the fact that she might be happy with the state of her hair.

I remember the years of beehive hairdos. We'd spend hours spraying and backcombing our hair until it stood sometimes a foot above our scalp. Even when the hairstyle was completely straight we women didn't just wash and wear. We ironed it.

Men wet their hair and comb it out the same way every day of their lives. Of course they can't understand why women choose hairdos that take so long to fix before going out. Ever wonder why we do this to ourselves??