Hair Is the Coworker You Never Notice Until It Ruins the Meeting
(An essay)
How much time do you spend thinking about hair?
You probably fix it most days.
You get it cut a few times a year.
And sometimes you stare a little too long at when someone dyes theirs blue.
Some folks wash it every day. Some go with “dry shampoo” and call it good.
We all know bedhead and hat hair when we see them.
Hair is an interesting thing.
- If you’re eating out and find an unknown stray in your food, your appetite vanishes.
- Samson was toast without it.
- We shave some areas, grow out others, laser it off entirely, and wince in pain when it gets pulled.
And yet, most days — once we run a comb through it and add a little product — we don’t think much about it at all.
Unless it becomes a situation.
———
My family can attest that I’ve done plenty of things with my hair.
I’ve grown it long enough for a man bun and pulled it up like a sumo wrestler.
I’ve dyed it. Bleached it.
Side note:
One time in college, my buddy Craig and I decided to dye our hair. I convinced him to do his by sticking his head in a toilet full of bleach. Teenagers are full of confidence and terrible ideas.
With the help of my mother-in-law, I’ve permed my hair.
I’ve worn mullets, side-parts, and middle parts.
Styled it up. Styled it down.
And I’ve probably looked at way more Brad Pitt and David Beckham photos than I care to admit — hoping my barber could turn me into one of them.
Speaking of my barber, don’t ask her how many times I’ve fallen asleep in her chair.
I’ve got a love-hate relationship with hair.
At least mine.
Around the time we started to have kids, I noticed some changes.
More on the shower floor. More scalp catching the sun.
For a while, I could ignore it. Unless I saw it in a photo.
Here’s the thing, hair is one of the few things that can be both dead and emotionally manipulative.
My experiment with Rogaine lasted about two months. Maybe I wasn’t patient enough, but the return on investment wasn’t there. Mel, to her credit, never wavered. Till death do us part.
I own lots of hats. Mostly ball caps. I bet I wear one about 75% of the time. Including right now.
———
But today, I’m thinking about hair. Or the lack of it.
I went to see Vanessa this week, and while she tried, she couldn’t talk me out of getting rid of mine.
Cue-ball.
Mr Clean.
Dr Evil.
Aerodynamic.
I’ve heard them all. And honestly? I’m good with it.
What I’m not worried about today is the wind.
Or people taller than me.
Or sitting on the front row.
Because no one wakes up thinking about hair, but everyone wakes up judging it.