My toiletries bag fell out of a bag of mine in Atlantic City, and I’m a bit irritated that the coworker who spotted it didn’t pick it up or say anything, and now it’s gone. The bag itself was a plastic bag from Target, no loss there, and most of the stuff in it costs almost nothing. (Except, of course, my razor – man, what a racket those people have. I bet the mob takes lessons.) But I had a comb in it that I liked very much, that I’d had for maybe almost ten years, and was given to me by an old girlfriend that I never talk to anymore but miss – not in a “I want to be with you again” way, but in a “we were great friends and I wonder how you are” way. It seems stupid to be sentimental over a bit of plastic, especially since I recently cut off my long hair after 15 years and don’t really need such a fancy big-tooth comb, but a) it was the last concrete memento of a great relationship and b) it was a really good comb.

When I trudged up a hill from yesterday’s concert venue to a Target to replace some of that stuff, I sort of deliberately bought the cheapest comb they had – a 99 cent Ace. On the back it says:

Removes foreign material from hair.

Ôte les corps étrangers des cheveux.

Elimina los residuos en el cabello.

I’d love to elimina los residuos, but I know for a long time I’ll open my medicine cabinet and think: that’s the wrong comb. I’m like that.


This was published on 30 Jan 2005.
A permalink to this post: combs.

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