Dawn O Watson/CNBNews Contributor
My hair hates me.
If I make plans to go out with a friend or I have an appointment with a doctor or even if I decide to take a walk, my hair senses it and reacts. I get a hair bump.
In the greater scheme of things this isn’t a big deal. However, my personal hair bumps look toxic. “What happened?” I am asked. “Are you all right?” “Just a hair bump,” I say as I try to flatten it. My bump reacts by growing larger as if in retaliation for the pressure of my hand.
If I’m lucky it’s in the back and I can keep spinning around so it’s out of sight of whoever I’m confronting. Sometimes I get dizzy and fall down. When it shows up on the side, I’m not above creating one on the other side to even out my head. But I notice that people edge away from me when I do that, like I’m hiding horns. Sometimes they check my feet to see if they’re cloven.
I remember the Great Hair Bump of 2015. That one was my own fault. I tried a side part and the next day my hair rebelled and retaliated with a bump the size of door knob. I tried mashing it, pinning it down, applying gel…nothing worked. I ended up wearing a knitted hat to cover it. Unfortunately, it was August, and so hot I fainted. When a passer-by removed the hat, I had to convince him I hadn’t hit my head on the sidewalk.
Of course, I could always wash my hair and hope the bump died a natural death but that doesn’t always work. My bumps apparently have a will to live and sometimes come back even stronger. Wearing barrettes helps and a ponytail hides a multitude of creepy knots, but they always work their way out of the hiding places and by the time I get where I’m going, they’re visible, again. I can almost hear them laughing.
I suppose there are much worse afflictions than the one of which I speak. At the very least my hair bumps are good conversation starters. All I need to say is, “It’s just a bump. It’s not contagious,” and then try to sell them my Bump of the Month calendar.
If you see me out for a walk don’t be afraid to say hello. Whatever is on my head, whether it’s a hat or a dozen bobby pins or even an oddly placed pony tail, I’m just an ordinary person trying to make my way in life, one bump at a time.