A long story about my Hair Highlights I just did—-Just because…
A few years ago, while having my hair cut by Kirsten in Hawaii, (I can highly recommend her), she was complaining about all her customers who are so picky about their hair. I offered her a relief, I told her to do “what ever she wants that she normally does not get to do to hair”. Two hours later I left with Leopard spots on my head. Surprisingly, I liked the look and have had spots, stripes or just plain highlights ever since. Now I will admit it is somewhat embarrassing sitting in a salon with a plastic cap on your head, sitting under the big blow dryer. One added bonus—-I learnt more about women and relationships than I ever really wanted to know. Trust me on this guys, if you want to know how women feel about the men in their lives, go sit in a hair salon for three hours ! ! ! ! Ladies, am I right?
OK, as I am in California now and have not found a hairdresser, my grays are starting to show, and my highlights have faded. I thought it would be a hoot to try doing this myself. Off I go to Safeway to pick me out a highlight kit. How hard can it be? Girls do this all the time, I am man, I can do this too, more importantly, I am a helicopter pilot, therefore I AM. Well, to my surprise, there is a whole isle dedicated to hair color kits, who knew? I’m in the wrong business for one. There is about 20 different brands and about 50 different colors. Of course, being a man—I cannot ask for help, so I spend the whole evening in Safeway, Isle 7 trying to figure out which kit to buy. First off I tried going down the line and eliminating all the ones with the models who did not appeal to me, unfortunately that only eliminated 3. By this time I had attracted the attention of Safeway’s “Loss Prevention Specialist”, who parked himself at the end of Isle 7 and attempted to “blend”, he needs more lessons. In the end I just grabbed the one with “black and orange” box, because orange is my favorite color and it had a picture of a guy on the box too.
So, I rush home, fast as I can, to make me look like a stud yet again, I also needed to pee real bad by this time too. Now I read the box:
L’OREAL—PARIS
A Rush of Extreme Highlights
Graphic and gleaming. Swirl on a few flashes,
brighten up bangs or rush on an all-over effect.
It’s easy to experiment with our patented highlighting wand.
No messy caps to cope with.
A double dose of super-fresh after-color conditioning shampoo
So hair won’t freak out or dry out.
Color Rays. Only for the experimental.
So, this all sounds fine and dandy to me. It has all the good words that excite a manly helicopter pilot like myself: Rush, Extreme, Gleaming, Patented, and Super-fresh. Life could not be better. I open the package, and low and behold, the “Patented Highlighting Wand” is nothing but a small bottle brush……. It’s not a wand at all, I was thinking of a wand in magical terms that will turn me into a stud. So, I’m looking at the six inch “wand” of which the last one inch has bristles, and I think to myself, “There is no way in hell this will work on my long hair”. My hair was getting a little long and unruly, and not wishing to embarrass those in the company who are “folickly challenged”, (thankfully they all have a sense of humor, otherwise I can see myself getting a good ass kicking), I decided to get it cut. This I did, by a barber, (very good barber, with a sense of humor), in Newcastle, California, go see “Paul the barber”, his daughter is a helicopter pilot so I felt safe. Well, I asked Paul to make it short so it “just sticks up”, this he did apart from the bangs, which he left pointing forward. Me, being an ass, decide I want them to stick up. So, I drink me a few “martoonis”, and go to work with a pair of scissors. I know, I know, what was I thinking. I found out why Paul left the bangs forward, age creeps up on us all—-receding hair line……Trust me, if a barber cuts your hair a certain way, just leave it the hell alone, there’s normally a good reason.
Now, I have the hair that can be managed by the one inch “wand”. I set about planning my hair transformation. I go out and buy the good vodka, Chopin, one cannot do highlights with cheap martoonis, and I buy some appetizers, rozen, so I can spend less time in the kitchen and more time with the martoonis and “magic wand”. I put on some music by Four to the Bar, their album Club Royale, Jazzy, rat pack Vegas music. The scene is set, let the party begin……….
Extremely un-characteristly for me and most studly helicopter pilots like myself, I actually read the directions, which said to “choose a look”. Based on my, NOW, short hair, I thought I might like to break away from spots and stripes and go with the fiber optic lamp look. You know the ones, you’ve seen them in the stores where there are lots of fiber strands that light up on the ends, ow cool would that be on my head. Guess what—-not one of the options! BUT, the box did say, and I quote: “Only for the experimental”. So I’m thinking, why not, we can experiment. Of course, I forgot that the “we” in this experiment consisted of “me alone”. I forgot that when girls do their hair they have a slumber party and help each other out. Too late for that now, I only bought appetizers for one. Don’t own a pair of jammies, but put on sweats to pretend, and got down to work.
There has to be an easier way to do this, the box contains no less than three separate things to mix. I think the manufacturer is just trying to make sure to get all the elements covered—one is a powder, one a liquid and finally a paste from a tube. All three are mixed, while wearing my “protective gloves” that were provided for my protection. Now this I don’t quite get, I need to protect my hands from this shit, but then I’m going to spread it all over my head, explain that. But who am I to question.
I am now on stage three, application. The closest option to the look I am after is called “Buzz Top Rays option D”. The instructions are thus: “Comb your hair back, make sure that your hair is sticking up”, got that one covered now after the previous nights escapades with the scissors….I digress, “Use your gloved hand”, Oh I’m still gloved—this stuff smells so toxic, I can’t believe I’m about to put it on my head.. “Use your gloved hand to apply color to the tips only sliding your hand from front to back”. This I do, However, there appears to be none of the product on my hair, and I didn’t get to use the “patented highlighting wand”, I paid for the damn thing, goddamn it, I’m gonna use it…..So, now I start to “comb” my hair with the wand covered with the color paste/liquid/gel stuff. Bad idea. Now I’ve got globs of this stuff all over my head. So I figure what the hell, lets just massage it all over my head, cant be that bad—I’m still wearing my “protective gloves”, besides, “gentlemen prefer blonds” maybe its reciprocal.
OK, so now, my head is completely covered but I still got stuff left in the “mixing tray”. Having paid $19.95 for the privilege of highlighting my own hair, its seems a waste to throw it away. What “other hair” do I have that I could highlight? You got it, pubic. I cannot believe I even tried it, let alone writing and telling the whole world…. The one good thing is that we (as in the proverbial “me”), did not need to go through the whole scissor routine again. Now why is that, how do pubic hairs know when to stop growing? I’ll not bore you with the details, but needless to say, I used the wand.
So, now we have completed the opening, mixing, and application phases, now we wait for 50 minutes as per the instructions. I set the stopwatch and pour me my fourth “martooooooni”. By this time, the food is gone, and I am now dancing to the music, scary scene huh? “Ooooowwwwww starting to burn”…… No where, and I repeat NO WHERE in the instructions does it say that this toxic concoction burns on the skin…. Genital region is definitely starting to burn, not good, still got another 27 minutes to go. I hang on for as long as I can, but alas, with 22 minutes to go, I chicken out and jump in the shower. Being a guy, I can stand almost anything but pain. I even jump in when the water is still cold before the hot water has reached the shower head; it helped “cool down” the burning boys.
Well as you can all imagine by now, the studly “fiber optic lamp” look did not quite work. Firstly, my whole head is now the same color, apart from the bits I missed near my neck. Secondly, because I chickened out before the allotted time had elapsed, it’s not blond. My hair is now a gingery red color that resembles a color of something I regurgitated many years ago. I now know why girls do this in groups and have slumber parties…..
G-man
“Life may not be the party we hoped for——but while we’re here, we might as well dance ! ! ! “
