Belting “Thrift Shop” loudly and horribly off key, I lathered my shampoo into my hair as I silently convinced myself that I sounded like Jennifer Hudson. Then it happened.
One minute I was humming about only having $20 dollars in my pocket, and the next my demon shampoo was invading my corneas. Screwing my eyes shut, I willed the stinging sensation to leave as I shoved my face directly under the warm water, trying to wash away the betrayal of my cleaning companion. It was the ultimate betrayal; the mother of all betrayals. Well, not really. But what would life be without the constant over-exaggeration of minuscule events.
I thought our relationship was smooth sailing, the shampoo keeping my hair nice and clean, while I continued to purchase and love its contents. Racking my brain for what went wrong, I could only come to one conclusion. Jealously. Pure and unadulterated jealously. My shampoo had become green with envy, not being able to handle our arrangement. While I left with my hair looking stunning and fresh, it sat on the shower ledge, pining for my return.
I guess I should have seen it coming. All the right signs were there. From “accidentally” tumbling off the ledge to smash my toes, to mysteriously finding the bottle empty all too quickly, the plot against me had been well thought out. Looking back, its scheme was quite simple. My shampoo sat, waiting until I grabbed it for use, allowing me to squirt some into my hand while it prepared for attack. As soon as my hands went to my head, the shampoo sprang into action, going for my eyes while my defenses were down. The water soon came to my aid, but it was too late. My eyes were already red and stinging with the agony of defeat. Falling to my knees, I shouted my favorite line from Arnold Schwarzenegger’s 1987 classic “Predator,” “What happened to you, Shampoo? You used to be someone I could trust.”
As I sit here recalling the horrific events of what will forever be remembered as “Pert’s Revenge”, all I can say is…
Well played my friend, well played.