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Some men were just born with fantastic hair. Mitt Romney, George Clooney, Anderson Cooper, Bradley Cooper, Brad Pitt, and, of course, me. But the work day is not friendly to your hair, no matter how glorious your lion’s mane may be. In fact, work is probably the worst possible thing for your hair, shown through the painful transformation it goes through throughout the day. The stress, the exhaustion, even the elements take their toll and leave your hair only a shadow of its glorious self by the end of the day.
You’ve finished the three S’s, gotten dressed, and are headed to work. After spending a good 15 minutes getting your hair just right, you head off to work ready to face the day, and nothing quite starts the day like having a good hair day.
You finally arrive at work after a horrible commute, but fortunately the pure, unadulterated road rage did not completely devastate your hair. You head into the bathroom and put the frazzled stragglers back in their rightful place, and your hair is whole again. For now.
Swinging around in your chair, checking emails, and handling aggravating phone calls is starting to take its toll. Your hair is getting a little puffy from all the movement and tenseness. There’s nothing you can really do for it at the moment since you have a customer halfway up your ass and you wish someone had put bourbon in your coffee.
Lunchtime. Time to stuff your face with pure happiness in the form of a Chipotle burrito or a Five Guys cheeseburger. Perfect for decompression, right? Wrong. The minute you open the door to go outside that little breeze of air comes into the building and destabilizes your hair. You’re one gust of wind away from having a sloppy version of Luke Skywalker’s 1970s swoop. When you finally get out of your car and get to the restaurant, a big gust of wind totally fucks up your hair and covers your entire forehead, so you have to brush it out of the way the best you can with your hand. Your band-aid will at least make you presentable for the public, but it’s certainly not how you want your hair to look.
Back from lunch, you go into the bathroom and try to fix the damage the best you can. Hell, you may have had to stop and buy a pocket comb at a convenience store. There’s no way it’s going to look as good as it did in the morning, but with a little water and about 15 minutes of TLC you can make a matted down version of what started as perfect hair.
The work day has begun its wear and tear on your hair again. The water, as it turns out, was a bad idea and now some parts are matted down and some parts are puffy, and any cowlicks you have are horribly amplified. You try to keep it together, and that requires you to avoid looking at anything that shows your reflection. You try to focus on work, but you keep hand-styling your hair.
The end of the work day is near, and you’re on the phone with the biggest pain in the ass of your day. You’ve given up on keeping your hair neat, because it’s the end of the day and this person is annoying as shit. Instead of giving into the urge of actually pulling your hair out, you angrily run your hand through your hair until it stands up like some punk rock west coast douche’s. By the end of its intentional abuse, your hair looks like the top of a carrot. Whatever.
To maintain some dignity you hand style your hair one more time, looking just good enough to pass at happy hour. After a few beers it won’t matter, anyway.