Is it sad that I almost cried real tears when my last metal clippie died last week?
In college, I made the most important purchase of my life: two rust-colored, metal clippies. You see, my hair reaches almost to my waist and is as thick as it is long. To my hair, plastic clippies were playthings. They would snap out of my hair in pieces, like an errant toe nail after clippage. The same went for hair sticks, they shattered in my hair leaving splinters to pick out. My hair, however beautiful, was always in my way, until one fortunate day at Claire's.
In college, I made the most important purchase of my life: two rust-colored, metal clippies. You see, my hair reaches almost to my waist and is as thick as it is long. To my hair, plastic clippies were playthings. They would snap out of my hair in pieces, like an errant toe nail after clippage. The same went for hair sticks, they shattered in my hair leaving splinters to pick out. My hair, however beautiful, was always in my way, until one fortunate day at Claire's.
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There I was, in the hair accessory section...again. I was something of a regular, since the hair that would not be tamed had broken yet another set of plastic clippies. Near the ceiling, in the top row, I spotted 2 clippies that looked the same color as my hair. It only took a couple of jumps to get them into my greedy little fingers. But what was this? These weren't plastic, they were metal. Score! Me and my metal clippies left the store and lived happily ever after...until last week.
After seven years of wedded bliss (Seven years, people! I don't even have shoes that have been with me that long!) and during a routine hair clipping session in my bedroom, the spring action on my clippie, sprung it's last. This was the last surviving clippie, my other one bit the dust a few weeks earlier. I was ignoring her death in the hopes of a miraculous revival.
I tried my best to keep a stiff upper lip, as I made the long trip to Claire's. Guess what? Metal clippies are no longer made. Turns out Claire figured out how much money she lost out on because of me and my metal clippies. Stupid bitch. As I am deciding whether or not to waste the money on the plastic clippies, I start to hear my follicles gearing up for the party they are going to throw in honor of their new found freedom. How can I go back to the plastic clippies? It would smudge the memory of the metal clippie, and that, I cannot do.
So unruly hair flowing in the wind, I head for home.
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Until I find evidence that the extinct metal clippies are no longer extinct, I will have to find another way to restrain my superpower hair. So far the only implement that has measured up is a PaperMate pen...I am so screwed.
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