I had a lousy day today. To top it off I went into Bath and Body Works, and this lady came up to me and started trying to sell me some kind of green slime. She said it would get rid of those fly away hairs. Now anyone who has ever seen me knows I don’t have fly-away hairs. My hairs don’t go anywhere, and they sure as hell don’t fly. My hairs stick close to the scalp. I’d pay good money for hair that flew some place. I don’t know how many hours of my life I’ve spent waving a hair dryer at my head, hoping something magic would happen. But before I could stop this woman, she was wiping this green stuff on my head. She handed me this little mirror. Isn’t that nice? It has such a shine to it. It looked like an oil slick. I tend to be polite, so I smiled, but I left before she could wipe anything else on me. Women like that make me nervous.
It reminded me of the first birthday party I ever went to. I was young, not even in school yet. I remember walking from the driveway to the backyard to join all these kids who were zooming around out there. All of a sudden this bird took a shit on my head. I remember thinking uho. What do I do next? I was this kid who always wore weird glasses and had a patch on one eye, and my dad used to say, however weird you think you look, just act normal. So I started racing around with the other kids. Pretty soon one of the mothers started worrying. Does that girl have bird shit all over her head? She took me inside and stuck my head under the kitchen faucet.
That bird shit was like super glue. It would not come out. I missed the entire party. No cake, no ice cream, just a head full of bird shit. I never would go back to that kid’s house. I knew better. That kid had birds in her yard that would shit all over your head.
AWP in Minneapolis, and recommended reading
4 weeks ago