Unfair Mousse

unfair mousse
by pat a physics
Hair can tell you most of what you want to know.  Thomas Gluckford’s head
was a gray fan in the back and a slick, sewer rat in front.  Tom smelled worse
than the bar.  Presently, he was talking about my mom in a rather lewd way.
His plan was to make a hasty exit, and cackle while running away.  I haven’t
made up my mind what I should do with Tom.  Several directions presented
themselves rapidly:  a fist fight, an exchange of curse words, a chase, some
angry conflagration of his rat hair using strike-anywhere match sticks, etc.
Earlier, at the grocery store, I saw some carefully parted hair atop a
pair of thick glasses.  The myopic, squinting gaze that met my eyes told
me that the person wasn’t sure if I was checking out in line or not.  The
idea of being blind doesn’t cross my mind that often.  I imagine that the
process of styling your hair would have to do more with the way it feels
more than how it looks on top of your head.  After I got in a bar fight
with Tom Gluckford, my hair had lots of blood in it.  When I was looking
in the bathroom mirror, I made sure to smooth my hair down once I washed
away the blood.  I try to make my hair look neat, but my cowlick will be
forever stubborn.  Most people have cowlicks.  Inconsistencies compel people
to buy chemical substances to put in their hair so things like cowlicks will not
be so apparent.  At the grocery store, there is a wall of these chemicals
that people sift through.  They are expensive, so I don’t buy them. However,
the wall attracts certain girls who are totally hot and have the best hair.
Incredible!  Often I go to the chemical wall to search for a possible
opportunity to present itself.  I’ve learned about which ones smell good
and I’ll make a recommendation, “Excuse me, have I met you before?  Oh,
it must be your hair style.  You remind me of someone else.  I’m sorry.
You should try this mousse!  We should try this mousse together!”