When Hair Worlds Collide
So, probably thanks to all the research for ‘Cabaret’ lying around the house, Ro and her friends decided to throw a 1920’s costume party for friends coming into town. And for her historical hair, she wanted finger waves.

In the hair sweepstakes, Ro won full, fine and straight. When she cut her hair for Locks of Love several years ago, her braid was as thick as her wrist. She just got it bobbed, prior to going back to college and was all set for a flapper ‘do.
A little too set, actually, because her friend Michelle decided Murray's Superior Pomade was the right stuff. Works on her hair. Before you could say “white girl, do not put that on your head”, Ro had become a Dapper Dan Man.
Forever…….. or until she grew a whole new head of hair.

The E-How Marge googled for her suggested olive oil and warned, too late, that the product “in the wrong hands (Michelle) or on the wrong hair (Ro) can be lethal”. Oh, really?
But olive oil didn’t work, because she had already gone through half a bottle of shampoo. And all I had in the house was weenie, ‘green’, save-the-planet dishwashing liquid.
“We need that stuff that kills seals” said Marge.
“Yeah, Mom-where is the DAWN?!? With the grease-cutting action?!?” demanded Ro, who did not want to go to college orientation looking like Alfalfa Switzer.

This was the worst family hair crisis since the Egg-Yolk Yellow Streaks a Week Before Rush debacle of 1998.

I suggested consulting Queen Beauty Supply, the local weave store, where the stuff came from in the first place, but was vetoed on the grounds of endless embarrassment.
Finally, Ro scored some Dawn and got her own hair back.
Enjoy other cultures, just not on your hair.