While we're on the subject of male toiletries and cleaning habits...
I have a natural part in my hair. I do not recall a time when it was not there. It is on the top left of my head, just up and over from my eye. Straight as a line.
For the last couple of weeks, I have been unable to find it, and I blame the woman who cut my hair last month.
A chirpy thing, complaining about her boyfriend and discussing in non-stop detail what a louse he was, and how she was better off without him, but she missed his cat; she had left him in the Valley where she had been commuting to the Halifax every morning, but was now ensconced in an apartment in town with her own cat.
Along the way, I became so bored and fed up with her mouth, and disappointed with the quality of the hack work she was doing to my lovely hair, that I declined her generous offer of washing my follicles afterward. I hurriedly paid her, bought the tea tree oil hair products I prefer, and got the H out of there.
You know, when you get your hair done, how you can never quite recapture what was done that magical day? Try as you might, it cannot be done? Well, I have a similar-yet-opposite problem. Since that morning, I have lost my hair part. Nothing I can do to my hair, no amount of combing, or product, or anything else, lets me get my hair in a way that I find suitable, and the natural part I have had my whole life has gone off to... parts unknown. It looks like one of William Shatner's hairpieces from back in the day before he could afford the really nice ones.
Damn that woman, whose name I will not give out for fear that it might cause me to get a visit from the police. Damn her. Damn her all to H.
I have gone to this hairplace many times over the years. The visit in December was quite nice, and I used pictures from that visit on the blog for one of my Christmas Tie Extravaganza days. But, now, I can't go back there. The place is forever tainted, stained, contaminated in my heart.
So, for Halifax readers only: Where can I go henceforth to get my haircuts? Not that place on Kempt Road. Other places, within walk of my work on Young Street, if possible.
I feel so much better, discussing this. It has been a burden to me, to have hair that is less than beautiful. To have hair that is merely human.
See you tomorrow.