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by Victor's Hairpiece
September 7, 2008

I was getting kind of slimy under that hot black ball cap! Fortunately I got out and had a lovely vacation!

Here's what happened:

I thought I was going to die from the heat! It was steamy, yes sweltering, in there. I am used to fresh air and sunlight. Well, recycled air and florescent light anyway. Although I do get outside when Zapato takes us for a walk.

I like Zapato in spite of the fact that he once got hold of me and ran off. He didn't chew me very much, and his breath does smell better than, well, you know.

I can't say because, after all, hairpieces are trained/designed to be discrete. You can take the hairpiece off of the head, but you can't take the training out of the hairpiece.

After that little episode, I was cleaned and re-woven. That's when they started calling me a 'weave'. The only real difference was that I never left Victor's head. Not even in the shower or, ugh, in bed! Oh the nightmares! I still shudder at the very thought.

Oh, I hope I am still being discrete. I'm not sure. Some of Vic's dementia may have seeped into me in spite of my lifetime guarantee and my coating of softly silver paint.

After I don't know how many days trapped inside that smelly ball cap I suddenly found myself, in the fresh air! I was still inside the hat but sitting on a bar not too far from a shot of tequila.

Oh the fresh air was wonderful! Yes the lovely smell of stale smoke, unwashed bodies, and booze was like fresh spring air to me!

Not only that but the man who was pouring tequila into the shot glass noticed me! He asked Victor if he would like to have me cleaned and 'fixed up.' He was speaking Spanish, but somehow I understood. Maybe it was those captions. I'm not sure.

Victor must have nodded because the bartender snatched me out of that hell hole, uh ball cap, and placed me on a shelf under the bar.

Victor grunted and crammed the ball cap back on his head. Without me the cap hid ever more of his face. That's good because he hasn't washed or shaved in days! I couldn't help but feel sorry for that poor ball cap. Guess I'm sensitive as well as discrete.

From underneath the bar I was taken by a little girl outside into the real fresh sea air. Though I was in a paper sack I could still sense it. I could hear the rolling waves and smell the rain of the coming storm.

After that I was cleaned with sweet smelling soap and put into the sunlight to dry. Hahn... I wonder if I got much of a tan? When I was dry I was massaged, combed, and re-woven with real human hair! No one not even at those 'fancy NAP spas' has ever had better treatment! I was sooo relaxed!

After that I was placed on a soft mannequin head to wait for Victor to summon me. The head was close enough to a window for me to watch the beach with the calming wash of the tides. Ahh, what a peaceful time I had.

Alas it ended. The little girl picked me up and took me to Victor in a dingy old hut. How she knew how to attach and style me I don't know. But darn, as soon as she left I was shoved back under that ball cap with only beautiful memories.

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