This weekend I succeeded in my mission to touch a bald man’s head and make it look like an accident. I have decided to grant myself double points of awesomeness due solely to the fact that my bald prey was nearly 7 feet tall; naturally making it difficult for me to swipe his baldness without a running leap. I believe that the extreme levels of skill and determination that were needed for such a challenging task deserve recognition and I would be lying if I reported that I am anything less than brilliant.
Saturday evening started out like any other Saturday evening. I had been out of town for 2 weeks and after spending 14 days alone in hotel rooms, I was more than ready to misbehave in Lynchburg. My flock and I decided to swing by our favorite bar before spreading our wings and trying a new club downtown that is typically a waterhole for strange locals and serves as a great venue to catch up on some quality people watching. This particular club also often displays videos of mating frogs on the dance floor so it is difficult not to be entertained.
After a few hours of dancing and frog porn viewing, the flock collectively decided that it was time to migrate back to the nest for some sleep and a light snack. As I waited for the tender of the bar to retrieve me my bill, I caught a glimpse of a beautiful bald giant. If he had been of average height, I may have been able to simply gather my belongings and find my way to the exit. Unforunately, his extreme height acted as a magnet that attracted my recent obsession with touching hairless heads. I couldn’t help myself and before I knew it I was standing next to him and plotting my attack.
As I opened my mouth to initiate a conversation, the giant looks at me, smiles, and says “ I’m 6-11 and no.. I do not play basketball”. That was the moment that I fell in love. He was tall, bald, and apparently some sort of mind reader. Absolutely amazing.
Unfortunately, I fell out of love as quickly as I fell into it when he began to talk about his ex-wife and children. I must say that I was disappointed however by removing all romantic intensions from the situation, I was able to focus all of my energy towards my original quest to touch is bald head.
After what felt like hours of forced small talk, my brilliance leveled to the surface and I was ready to attack. I knew that the first order of business was to get the giant closer to my own height so I staged a graceless mishap and dropped my clutch at my feet. I quickly apologized for being so clumsy and pretended to be greatly concerned that my cloth bag had somehow damaged his feet with its great fall. I then acted as if I was making a valid effort to pick my bag up off the floor. After 2 fake attempts, I asked the giant if he would be willing to reach it for me, fabricating an excuse about my bad knees.
Was this a lie? Yes. Am I proud of it? Only a little. As the saying says though, desperate times call for desperate measures and I think that this situation definitely applies. Mr. Clean and his bald head had escaped my fingertips on the airplane and I couldn’t let this giant get away. I am no quitter.
As he so kindly bent down to hand me my bag, I made believe that my roommate, Ashley, had called my name behind us. I spun my body around with great dexterity and accidently graced my fingertips across his smooth and shiny head.
It was even greater than I had anticipated. Although I did not have the time allowance or confidence to get a good grip and make his skin wrinkle, the brief swipe was well worth the plotting and struggle.
Life. Is. Complete.