Photo Courtesy of http://www.tunetimers.com
Lunch, which is usually the highlight of my work day, was filled with frustration. I started off on a good note by making an effort to actually accomplish my lunch agenda: eat, run errands and return for a quick cat nap. I had a to-do list and everything.
So I’m full speed ahead with my lunch plans when decide to run my errands first–I figured I could endure the hunger a moment or two longer. My new cell phone had been giving me some drama so I decided to stop at the carrier to have it fixed. Waiting patiently in line, I was quickly scooped up by a African guy who was delighted to help. He wasn’t bad looking at all, but I did notice that his hair was slicked to the highest level of slicketivity ever witnessed on earth. I can usually appreciate a good selection of hair products, but his usage was a tad bit excessive. First of all, his hair was short–really short like the average black man fade that is often adorned with a bounty of waves. It wasn’t anything a doo-rag or wave cap couldn’t tame. So why all the extra product usage? Second, it was extra greasy. I didn’t plan on touching his hair, so the greasiness really wasn’t a problem for me…or so I thought.
When it finally came time to trouble shoot the issue, the man had to man-handle my phone to find the problem. By the time I got it back, it was greasy as hell. Most people (well at least black ladies) are used to a little product build-up (via make-up or hair) on the ear piece. That’s nothing that a quick swap can’t take care of. Other than that, one doesn’t usually have phone keys so greasy that you have to balance the phone in both hands just to dial a number. I wouldn’t have minded all the greasiness, but as usual the employees in the store don’t know sh*t about the phones when it comes to technical issues. We sat online with technical support for about 45 minutes until I finally said, “You know what, I’m on my lunch break. I’ll just give it to one of the IT guys at work.”
For what it’s worth, the guy really did try to help me. Due to his thick accent, he had to repeat everything over and over again to the technician, who probably had an accent as well. So ‘Thank you’ African man at the ATT store on MacArthur. Thanks, not only for your assistance, but also for subjecting me to an afternoon of alcohol pads and windex. I tried everything and still couldn’t get that greasiness off my phone.
P.S. I love all my African brothers and sisters–greasy or not.