The Hairbrush

Last Friday night I came home from work and took a shower in preparation for taking my friend Julie out to dinner. As I was blow-drying my hair I picked up Julie's round brush, wound my hair up on it, and dried it. When I switched the dryer off the brush was stuck. As in, immovably attached to my scalp. Julie spent 45 minutes trying to extract the brush. She tried re-wetting the hair, using oil, and cutting off the bristles. The result was about 2 inches of success, in 45 minutes.

Not knowing what else to do, we decided to look for a hair salon because a lot of them stay open late. We ran up and down the street - me wearing a hooded jacket with a brush handle sticking out of the hood - looking for an open-late salon, and people openly staring. No success. I stopped at the walk-up window of Toast Lady's little cafe in my neighborhood and used my cell phone dictionary to ask if she knew of nearby salons that are open late. She look horrified, shook her head, and pointed to her oiled griddle and a pitcher of water, asking if we had tried oil or water. We had. She shrugged and said, "Toast-uh? Coppee?" No thanks. Not tonight.

I called a friend who lives in my neighborhood and she told me to come to her house. We found her sitting outside, and at the sight of the brush handle sticking out of my hood she shook her head in disbelief and said, "What HAVE you done this time?" because with me, it really is something all the time. She had a good sense of humor and worked away diligently at the mess on top of my head. Her boyfriend held the brush and made positive comments in his British accent such as, "We've just released another strand. I believe it's going to be alright!" Our friend from across the street came over with beer and gave his input. It was taking such a long time that my boyfriend came over with pizza. He was the only one who had absolutely nothing to say. I was going to Japan early the next morning and thought I would have to go with only 2 inches of hair on the top of my head.

Another hour and a half later, with my head drenched in oil and my scalp feeling like it was bleeding and on fire, the brush came out. Needless to say, dinner never happened. I had a headache for 3 days, but the hair was saved.

Up next, Julie's visit and our trip to Japan.