How much does music play into our lives? Isn't there certain songs that bring back memories? While channel surfing on the radio, on the way home from running errands, I hear the Chris Isaak song "Wicked Games". I have always referred to it as the "I Don't Want To Fall in Love" song. And you know how songs can bring back memories. It brought back this memory.
It was late July of 2004. It was a typical Midwestern summer day, which meant it was 90 degrees and humid as hell, which meant I was already sweating at 7 am. And being the place I worked at had no A/C or windows it was 120 degrees inside. On top of that we have to wear company shirts, steel toe boots and hairnets.
The shirts were okay looking, but made out of some weird fabric, which made it feel like you were wearing a wool sweater in the summer, and absolutely nothing in the winter. Well, at least they were free, as were the steel toe boots. I had a pair that looked like Nike basketball sneakers. Comfortable, but after 12 hours they felt like 5 pound weights. I swear by quitting time I was walking like I was 90 years old.
The hairnets weren't like regular hairnets. The hairnets we wore were white paper ones. They felt like cloth, but were made out of weird paper. Wearing them made you even hotter and made me a daily candidate for heat stroke. I think they were made by the same sadistic company that made our shirts. Wearing one made you look like you were wearing a huge shower cap. I wore a baseball cap over mine. A woman I worked with said wearing it made people have poofy heads.
I got off at work at 7pm, and despite it still being 90 and humid, the warm breeze actually felt cool. First thing I did was turn on my cell phone and listen for messages. While walking like an old man to my car, I heard a message from a friend concerning a poker party. So I open up my car, sat down, threw my ball cap on the passenger seat, and as I'm taking off my 5 pound boots, I call him. I tell him, "I'll be there, and bring some extra money 'cause I'm feeling lucky." And I was feeling lucky. Well not exactly lucky but I felt good. Real good. My work week was over, and I had plans all weekend, and now adding to it, I was playing poker. So I was smiling. Instead of the A/C, I decided to just roll down all the windows and enjoy the breeze. I put on the White Stripes CD and starting singing away, feeling as good as can be.
I lived 31 miles from work so I would take the turnpike back and forth. As I'm pulling up to the toll booth I decide to take out the White Stripes and put in a Patsy Cline CD. I did this because earlier in the week, when I had on a Hank Williams CD on, the good-looking woman who works in the tool booth struck up a conversation (I do like to flirt). I, unfortunately, couldn't find the CD so I turned down the radio. It turned out it didn't matter because the good-looking woman wasn't working. It was another good-looking one. She gave me a smile, looked in my eyes, then looked up at my head. Obviously she was looking at my haircut. Well, of course she was, how couldn't she, after all I do look pretty snazzy when I get it cut.
I pull away and as I'm getting on the highway I'm thinking, "I need to keep my hair this length all the time ... see how she was admiring it". Soon I'm up to speed. Surprisingly, the turnpike going west was practically empty. The only car in front of me was a blonde in a Mustang convertible with Indiana plates.
I got on the cell phone again to make a few calls. As I passed her, I looked over and she was a knockout. I'm not normally attracted to blondes, but she was a head-turner, and I was turning my head. She looked at me, did a double take and smiled. "Damn! Nice smile!", I said to myself and didn't put no more thought into it.
I'm still on the phone and I see a car passing me, so I look over and it's the blonde. She looks over and gives me the biggest smile. "What the hell", I say to myself. My heart starts pumping a little more. Soon as she gets in front of me, I pass her again, and again we look at each other and smiled. I tell myself, "Get off the phone! Get off the phone!" So I get off the phone, and here she comes passing me again, smiling her beautiful smile my way yet again.
By this time my head, or should I say ego, has swollen (probably both). With my great mood, feeling lucky, and feeling cocky from the toll booth woman looking at me, soon I'm talking out loud to myself but still looking at the blonde bombshell, "That's right, Baby. You like what you see, don't you? Yeah, Daddy gets a haircut, and now you want some of me."
I just have to get a look at myself now. See how great I really do look, after all, women are going crazy over me. So I'm feeling cocky as hell, and smiling like the cat who swallowed the canary, I slowly look at myself in the rearview mirror, and I'm shocked. Not shocked at my sexy look for there was no sexy look. I was shocked because I still had on my bright white hairnet. No wonder I was getting looks with smiles. I must say, my co-worker was right, it did look like I had a poofy head. Needless to say, I slowed down and didn't pass the pretty blonde again.
Since I never did turn the radio back up since I left the toll booth, I turned it up and Chris Isaak was singing, "I Don't Want To Fall in Love", and yes, Chris, I don't want to fall in love. I don't want to fall in love with my haircut. Not ever again. My ego can't take another beating.
Thanks for listening.