Strange things happen when I’m on vacation.
Like my hair.
When I was packing for
Cancun, I of course wanted to look good so I put in my shampoo, my cream rinse, my gel, my root boost, my finishing pomade, and my hair spray.
My arrival in
Cancun was in the afternoon so I didn’t need to do my “do” for the rest of the day except comb through it—it having gotten a bit matted from falling asleep with head against the window of the plane.
But then the day progressed and . . .
Somehow it got a life of its own! It must have been the humidity, because the waves (in my hair not the
Caribbean), grew and became more defined. I’ve never seen my hair look so big.
That evening, I decided not to wash my hair because: 1) I liked how it looked. And 2) I was going to go swimming the next morning. Why bother?
But then the next day when I got back from swimming and looked into the mirror, I saw the strangest thing. My hair! My salty, dried hair still looked good.
What kind of strangeness was happening here in
For the remainder of my time in
Cancun, my hair continued to have its own exotic persona. I liked it. And I never washed it again until the night before I left for home.
Now, I not making a comment about whether my hair stunk or not, but it could be why the waiters didn’t get too close when they were pouring my coffee.
Anyway, when I got back to the
airport and used a restroom, I saw another strange sight in the mirror. Detroit
My strange hair was strange no more.