Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Hair Spray on a sister in #America


By Owomugisha Regina

Seems I am all over the place like white on rice. That’s the beauty of buses.  One thing though, there is a bit of drizzle where I got to the bus which made the color run from my hair.

We women of a certain age who have not accepted that things are going south must color the hair.  The hair salons ask for the equivalent of my five hours of hard earned money so I decided to get color from the drug store and I do it myself. I wanted to look Black and Proud for that Life improvement thingy/

Well, going in I looked good but coming to the bus in a drizzle is another story on the Oprah show.  All color running from head to face and the bus people are looking at me like I am the Frankenstein Bride. Mind your business I wanted to say but I am too tired to start exchanging words that won't take me anywhere far.  Besides, who needs my explanation!  The evidence is all over my face.  Black spots coming down to my collar.

I wanted to stand but I decided since today I didn't dodge me fare I am entitled to a seat.  So, I sat next to a lady with such beautiful hair that all I could see was the contrast between her hair and mine.  I am comforted by the thought that her beautiful mass of hair must be a Brazilian weave.  So she gets into my business and asks, did you just wash you hair?  You should have seen the look on my face as a few bus people turned to my direction to see my beautiful crown.

I think she wanted to draw attention to herself because hers is picture perfect. I didn't have any answer for her and then she asked, well, who did your hair?  At this point we are getting near some places that sell hair as the bus takes me upwards from Forest Glenn to Aspen Hill.  I want to tell her it's one of them swanky places but I see the smirk on her beautiful face.  Some Kadarshian look alike she is this chick.

It's alright for some.  That’s what I think to myself.  As some kind woman pulls paper tissues out of her bag and offers them to me to dry my head.  I am angry at this hair woman.  I am angry and the driver picking people at each stop and hey I am even angry that I am angry.

Well the bus has arrived at Glenmont.  Let me save myself further embarrassment and get into Uber. A girl needs a hair break.  Like hair pays my rent which is due today.  So much for life improvement thingy I went to.

This much I know.  If someone else is writing a story on bus people, they have a nice topic today and that's because they see the color running off my hair in this drizzle.  If it wasn't so funny, I would laugh at myself as I catch my reflection in the window of the bus.

Nite Alligators.

http://nangalama.blogspot.com/2017/03/hair-spray-on-sister-in-america.html

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