New Crank.

Today I learned about hair extensions.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with hair extensions, they are what the justice system and the DEA refer to as “hard drugs.”

A subject – most likely female – has mild self-esteem issues, looking for a change in her rut-stuck life and is considering cutting her hair as the remedy to all her woes. This despite the fact that, to this day, there is no record of any woman – elderly, adult, teenage or unborn – ever being truly satisfied by a haircut. She wanders into a specialized shop.

Those who work this shop are not certified psychologists, guidance counselors or know anything about her, but do sport flashy clothes and eccentric hair-do’s. To her impressionable eyes they seem perfectly qualified to advise. Not surprisingly, their advice perpetuates the dream of the fix-all-haircut. Moreover, it just so happens that this silver-tongued con man can execute said haircut for a very small fee. After all, he is a trained hairdresser.

She agrees to the haircut.

Needless to say, the haircut is about as satisfying as a kick in the balls.

This sends her into a downward spiral of poor self-image and incessant complaining. The nagging about said haircut alienates her from her friends, which in turn, only increases the self-pity and distress.

Oddly, however, the hairdresser receives none of the blame but rather has inexplicably become sole confidant. As such, he recommends a more powerful antidote to low self-esteem: extensions. He doesn’t deal (with) extensions personally but knows a trustworthy hairdresser who does. (This extension hairdresser just so happens to work in the same shop. What a fortunate coincidence for the shop owner).

And so she reaches enters the world of hair extensions. (Please understand these are somebody else’s replacement for the very thing she wanted cut off in the first place.) She is told that price of these is about 8-fold that of the haircut it is hoping to replace. Suddenly struck with the financial implications of the mess she’s gotten into, she seems hesitant.

However, this extensions hairdresser did not get to where is by allowing common sense to get in the way of a transaction. He assures her this is “high-quality, fully natural, human grown” hair and that his “provider always comes through with quality products.” The deal is closed.

And so she spends US$700 on a product that in less than a football season will have become utterly useless because her own body will have grown the exact same thing. It is not many a product your body can produce for you and save you US$700.

At this point, if you feel this story sounds vaguely familiar, it’s probably because it’s the plot for the movie Traffic and every season of The Wire. They may call “gateway drugs” “haircuts,” use “hairdresser” instead of “dealer” and say “extensions” instead of “hard drugs,” but I know an illicit trade circle when I see one.

buen día,

grego.

I give these MCs hell like they all atheists.