The other day I was getting ready for school. I had drippy wet hair, and the way I’d timed it, I had exactly 36 minutes to blow dry it, do my make-up, get dressed, and get out the door.
I plugged my blow dryer into the wall and expected a gentle whirling noise to start, but instead, I got nothing. I tried a different plug and still nothing. I pushed that little red button on the back of the plug repeatedly and NOTHING! I went down stairs and reset the fuse, and still got nothing. 31 minutes until I had to leave, and I still had dripping wet hair. So, I banged the hair dryer on the counter, because that’s what people do in the movies, right before they get angry and throw it out the window.
I guess I should have seen this coming. I bought the blow drier at Target when I was in college. It was a purplish blue Conair, and I think I paid all of 26 dollars for it. I was half excited about it breaking, because now I can get a new one. Perhaps a professional one that is imported from Japan. But I couldn’t think of that now, I had to find a way to dry my hair before I went to hair school. Because wet hair is so very unacceptable. Just as I was contemplating a french braid with a pretty bow tied at the end, I heard the air conditioner click on. AH HA!
I made it to school on time, and my hair was voluminous and sexy.
Thank you Mr. Air Conditioner.