**I found this draft, 98% complete on my phone so decided to finish it a few days later. Enjoy!**
This morning I realize I slept in.
I typically wake up 5 minutes before my alarm tells me to, which is about an hour earlier than anyone else.
At 5:27am, I glance at the clock and realize the alarm was never set.
As I stare in horror at my cell phone screen, I realize a shoddy attempt was made to set the alarm but I never did swipe the screen to the right.
Everything in life favours right handed people.
If I was to set the alarm and swipe to the left, I’m sure I would have still forgot.
Fighting off sleep to watch a documentary on Randy Johnson’s illustrious baseball career was better than any type of sleep aid.
What he loses in eloquence, he gains by ensuring the beaning of batters became a fixture of the modern game.
I mull this over.
If I was beaned by Randy Johnson, I probably wouldn’t charge the mound, either.
He always has and always will remind me of a Transformer.
As I scramble to find something else to wear other than a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle t-shirt and flannel pants, I make a mental note that this is the weekend Mount clothing will move off of my floor and into my dresser.
It could happen.
In my haste, I get to the washroom, look in the mirror and smile.
Today is one of the first day I haven’t scared myself by doing this.
Why, you may ask?
It’s because I’m currently sporting purple hair.
I have to admit, it’s been a big change for me.
Here’s what my hair used to look like:
I went from sporting the Angela Bower look to President of the Mindy Cohn fan club:
With purple hair comes great responsibility.
I cannot tell you the amount of feedback I’ve had because of it.
“I don’t have the guts to do that to my hair!”
I get that a lot.
Newsflash; you don’t have the looks, either.
Yikes, that was harsh.
Perhaps the colouring has seeped in.
Out of the many encounters and conversations I’ve had about my hair; these three peculiar encounters stand out.
All in the same day too.
Consider them parables with poignant lessons.
Because this blog is also educational.
Peculiar Encounter #1 occurs when a friend of mine sees my hair for the first time and says; “daaaaaaaaaaaaammmn!”
I’m impressed by her seventh inning stretch of the word.
This is followed by two astute observations;
#1 She tells me “You know, that’s going to be a bitch to maintain!”
She’s right. As someone with a hair stylist in her family, she can say things and not get voodoo dolled afterwards.
To this, I respond; “Luckily it’s not me doing the work!”
The way that beautiful people with awesome hair typically do.
#2 She also tells me; “You know, your clothes will never match your hair ever again! Everything is going to clash”
Such a prophecy haunts me this morning as I avoid throwing on a red sweater and curse her name out loud.
Lesson learned: In a world of fake, hang onto those who speak the truth. They are keepers, even if you want to cuff them.
Peculiar Encounter #2 occurs literally outside the office building.
I’m walking along the street and am stopped dead in my tracks by a young woman.
I never knew what dead in my tracks meant until I literally almost killed this person.
“Your hair…it’s amazing!! I love it!” I say thanks because that what nice people do.
For someone who loathes small talk, I certainly have been a catalyst of it.
I ask the student; “What program are you taking?”
“Oh no! I’m not a student! I don’t have a job. I walk up and down the streets all day! Why, are you hiring? Can I work for you?”
I briefly mull over expensing a Personal Assistant or Bodyguard.
I do appreciate her proactive approach.
After more chatting, I send her on her way with a couple of resources and the location to a career centre about 13 minutes up the road.
Lesson learned: It doesn’t cost anything to be a decent human being. Besides, maybe this person will remember you and win cash for life.
Reciprocity in action.
I kinda like that.
My third and final encounter of the day occurs at the No Frills grocery store.
I can’t think of a better name for a place where good customer service and replenished inventory go to die.
I’m buying soap because there appears to be a soap shortage at home.
Having eaten it regularly as a child, I can say the taste of Ivory is much better than Irish Spring.
The alternative would have been to stop swearing but then I wouldn’t have developed such a discriminating palette.
As I place my soap products out of mouth reach and onto the conveyor, the cashier looks up to say; “I have to tell you, I just love your hair!”
I say “Thanks!” because that’s what nice people do.
He is then joined by a coworker who tells me she wants her hair my colour but her boyfriend won’t allow it.
She looks really sad.
I say “He sounds like a real piece of work!”
And she proceeds to tell me and her coworker how he really is a nice guy, he just likes things certain ways and she just has to ask his permission.
I shrug my shoulders, grab my scented products and leave.
I have nothing positive to add.
Lesson learned: Hair colour can fade but a jerk significant other can sting for a lot longer.
Also, wear a cap next time you go grocery shopping.