I am having a BAD hair day. Really bad. A "man oh man how in the world did you allow yourself to face the public like that" bad hair day.
My hair is exceptionally curly. There are only two ways to control it... keep it short, or keep it long. Anywhere in the middle of those two poles is chaos. My hair doesn't sit in another direction on my head... it reaches for the clouds. It doesn't have a few hairs sticking up - it resembles long iron shavings and a big magnet hovering above my head. It also stands in entirely different directions - some curl, others plop, others stand on end ala Alfalfa.
I tried everything, man. Used lots of hair gel. Put a hat on immediately after water and gel to create a makeshift mold for my head. Nadda. Usually, in worse-case scenarios I can utilize a ball cap as a strategic device. Not today. It lasts for about 5 seconds and then BOING, my head springs up like a Chiapet with Miracle Grow.
There are people in this world who can pull off my hair. Chris Isaak. That guy Alexi who used to play for the US Soccer Team. All those new urban hipster metrosexuals with their stylin' afros. But not me. Uh-uh. I'm not like all those cool cats. I look like a white Snoop Doggy Dog, stuck my finger in an electric socket, fashioned a racoon/muskrat hat into a hair piece (see Davy Crocket reference above.)
In other words, I am SO not palatable for public consumption today.
I have taken to putting on my hat during smoke breaks. The 5 second period of hair cooperation has felt nice in comparison to a day when I fear my hair will catch onto the ceiling panels.