Last week, my scarefro was getting on my nerves, so I made an appointment with braider Habibah. If braiding was an Olympic sport, Habibah would be a frickin’ Gold Medalist. I don’t know what genetic pool produced her agile and nimble fingers, but she had every hair on my head braided in no time flat.
She worked so quickly, in fact, that I had paid her and was back in my car before I noticed the awful, stabbing, mind-numbing pain radiating from my scalp. My friends all warned me that the first few days would be a tad uncomfortable, particularly for a first-timer. They failed to tell me it would feel like a swarm of killer bees landed in my head for some target practice. This was bound to turn out bad.
I suffered through five whole days of that foolishness. Five whole days of being unable to squint because my hair was pulled so tight. Five whole days of not being able to even nod my head.
Five. Whole. Days…of cornrow terrorism.
On Day 5, I stopped by the local beauty supply in search of a product called Braid Ease. It’s supposed to help. A professional hairstylist who was shopping on the same row as me
took one look at my irritated scalp and said, “Oh, that’s not right,” as she eased away from me, looking like she was about to call the CDC on me for whatever was eating away at my head.
I rushed home and performed an emergency braid evacuation. I ripped out some hair in the process, but we’ll just call that acceptable collateral damage.
The scarefro is back…and it’s back getting on my nerves….but when I think about what it could be, I just whip out my pick and go with the ‘fro.
She worked so quickly, in fact, that I had paid her and was back in my car before I noticed the awful, stabbing, mind-numbing pain radiating from my scalp. My friends all warned me that the first few days would be a tad uncomfortable, particularly for a first-timer. They failed to tell me it would feel like a swarm of killer bees landed in my head for some target practice. This was bound to turn out bad.
I suffered through five whole days of that foolishness. Five whole days of being unable to squint because my hair was pulled so tight. Five whole days of not being able to even nod my head.
Five. Whole. Days…of cornrow terrorism.
On Day 5, I stopped by the local beauty supply in search of a product called Braid Ease. It’s supposed to help. A professional hairstylist who was shopping on the same row as me
took one look at my irritated scalp and said, “Oh, that’s not right,” as she eased away from me, looking like she was about to call the CDC on me for whatever was eating away at my head.I rushed home and performed an emergency braid evacuation. I ripped out some hair in the process, but we’ll just call that acceptable collateral damage.
The scarefro is back…and it’s back getting on my nerves….but when I think about what it could be, I just whip out my pick and go with the ‘fro.
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