Posts tagged Dreadlocks
Posts tagged Dreadlocks
Whoopsie, you got a hickey. You’re probably a little proud. More importantly, you’re probably a lot embarrassed. You’re gonna have to hide that since your dreadlocks pretty much rule out the “I burned myself with a curling iron” excuse. Just wear that cowl neck sweater to your office job, goooooood idea. It’s the middle of August, BTW, you idiot. At least people know you generated some interest from a boy. Actually, they don’t know it was a boy. You have dreadlocks, after all, so they probably assume you’re a lesbian.
The Facial Bruise
When’s the last time you had a bruise on your face? Oh… never? Yeah, because that doesn’t happen. Well, whatever you do, don’t tell them the real story of how you got it. Punching yourself in the chin because you just had to get that sticky glue stick cap off doesn’t sound very sexy. And believe me, you’re gonna need to hold on to every sexy point you can ‘cuz that facial bruise isn’t helping.
The Uncontrollable Blemish
So you’ve been moving to a new apartment, which always stresses you out to the max. Apparently you were so stressed that you actually went through puberty again. It’s a scientific anomaly, but it happened, so how do you deal with the biggest zit in the time/space continuum that has taken up residency in the middle of your forehead? Well, you can’t comb your bangs over it because you don’t have bangs. You chose dreadlocks. You’ll just have to ride it out. Roll with the punches. Laugh with your coworkers when one of them names the zit “Patrick” and starts talking to it like you’re not even in the room. Try not to blush when someone tries to feed Patrick a sundae and gets whipped cream in your hair.
*NOTE: I’m talking about you. Not me, even though I also have dreadlocks. YOU.
Dear other white people with dreadlocks,
Stop looking at me.
Yes, we appear to have one obviously similar stylistic trait. However, you don’t know me. We have no spiritual connection, so please, when we cross each other on the street or spot one another at a concert, don’t give me that “we understand each other” glance. We don’t.
Understand this: We have little to nothing in common. You are enabling the White Person With Dreadlocks Stereotype by calling them your “locks,” wearing hemp pajama pants, and getting tattoos of Trey Anastasio and Buddah on each calf. I, on the other hand, am intent on being a functional part of society, hence the shaving of my armpits and the having of a job.
Please, if you insist on talking to me when we get stuck sitting next to each other on the Mega Bus from Milwaukee to Minneapolis, let me talk first. I will tell you how much I spend on high heels annually, how I participate in Nugget-Offs (the ultimate carnivorous competition) at Wendy’s on the regular, and that I seriously can’t even name one Greatful Dead song. Not. Even. One. This will make you think that I don’t “deserve” my “locks,” nor your attention and you’ll then leave me alone so I can read Harry Potter 7 for the fifth time.
Now run along to whatever drum circle you’re en route to and I’ll hurry home to catch the new episode of Bridalplasty. We don’t have to understand each other, see? We’re free to be you and me. That’s why America is so great. Oh fuck, no, no, NO! I do not want to hear your brilliant idea of how all Americans should move to Uganda to make room for all the people who really deserve freedom. Shhh.