hair horror

I have to confess: I've actually never had miserable roommates. Yeah, there have been times when I've wanted to secretly (or not-so-secretly) edge them out. I'm not gonna lie, I've been annoyed more than a few times.

But for the most part, I've been lucky. Very lucky. I mean, you hear stories -- nightmares if you will about slobbish roommates, thieving roommates, unhygienic roommates, flaky roommates, poorhouse roommates, etc, etc, etc.

So far, I've only had to deal with long-haired roommates. A horror of its own kind.

You may think I'm exaggerating. I am. Even so, living with multiple long-haired female roommates can engender a swirling web of hair horror unimaginable by mankind (and by mankind I really do literally mean only men).

For one thing, it literally follows you everywhere. You'll be walking down the street, glance down to brush off a piece of lint off your sweater, and wha' oh! There's a mile-long hair that's clearly not yours slithering down your side. Or you'll be slipping into your blazer and wha' oh! realize your corduroy jacket has been transformed into a fur coat. Even PETA wouldn't stand for this.

Multiply that experience by everywhere and you get a sense of the full magnitude of hair horror.

The end.