Never judge a woman by her hairstyle, ever…
OK, I’m not 10 years-old. I shouldn’t have to be reminded never to judge a book by its cover, but sometimes life throws you a little open-your-eyes-and-dig-deeper-chick.
Today, I was tossed a big fat martini in the face (or maybe in this case it would have been Clicquot and a side of neon wayfarers just for emphasis) when my sweet, middle-aged FedEx delivery woman featuring her purple and black socks and tennis shoes, bangs that wanted to curl up and die 15 years ago and a lip possibly in need of a little waxy wax did this:
1. Walked in
2. Heard Kanye flowing out my speakers
3. Proceeded to passionately educate me on Keri Hilson’s Knock You Out feat. Kanye & Ne-Yo.
I felt: a. Stupid, out of touch and older than her and b. like I wanted her to be my new best friend.
Moral of the story, duh. Never ever, ever, ever judge a woman by her hairstyle. So many women are walking around with an outside that just does not match the inside. I wanted to T&P it up with her right then and there — in good time. In the meantime, I have a lot to learn from her!
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