It's because of this that I found myself in deep conversation with the world's pushiest beauty store sales clerk. I reached for the goo that I usually use to achieve messiness, and she scolded me.
Her: No! That, I wouldn't use. It's matte. With hair texture like yours, it will dry out your hair. No no no. It's wrong. Of course, I can ring you up for it, but you will be making a big mistake.
Me: It's what I always use. I like it.
Her: ...and that explains your hair, love.
Me: blink. What did you say?
Her: I can tell it's a cute hair cut, but, no. You ruin it.
Me: Aaauuuuhhhmmm. Wow. Ok.
Her: Here. Try this. I promise it will make your hair full and shiny and soft like a satin ribbon. It will cure cancer, heal the world of violence, and bring you to enlightenment. Here. She squirts some into my hand. Redesign your hair, change your life!
Me: Now?
Her: Yes, yes! Quickly! Not a minute to lose. Fix yourself!
Me: This is the scariest conversation I've ever had. No. I didn't really say that. I was thinking it. What I really said was...
Me: I don't want to.
Her: Shaking her head to reject my answer... I'll do it! ...And she actually made a beeline for my head!
At this point, I did what ALL spineless customers do. I grabbed a bottle, practically threw it at her and told her I'd take it. Just to get her to stop. (Kevin was very disappointed at this part of the story. But I can't lie to you. I caved.)
So that's the story of how I bought world peace in a bottle. It had damned better work.
