You Are The Wind Beneath My Contempt

I am a girl who enjoys dying my hair. No crazy colors for me, Corporate America, but I vary greatly in shades of browns, auburns, reds and dark blonde. My natural hair color is a deep gray-brown almost black. I decided that  I want to lighten it for the summer, and so i picked a medium brown shade with blonde highlights.



I showed up to work the next day, and my middle aged male coworker, (we'll call him "Diarrhea of the Mouth Man" or DOMM for short) says "What did you do to your hair?"

I have punched people in the throat for saying less dickheaded things, but I am a reasonable woman, so before I cocked my fist to nail him one, I asked him what he meant. He of course, stated he didn't like my hair lighter, and asked incredulously "well what did your BOYFRIEND have to say about that?"

I'm sorry, I guess I forgot to ask Andrew's permission before dying my hair. Perhaps I should make sure I do so next time. I will ask him while I am preparing his dinner before he gets home. But I better make sure he has his martini first, because I wouldn't want him to back hand me. I guess it's because I don't speak to men unless spoken to first...

Give me a break, DOMM...I didn't ask for your opinion, and even if I did, LIE to me for God's sake. I'm a woman! Tell me I look beautiful even if I look like a zombie from the seventh circle of hell. I promise, when I take over the world, your death will be slow and painful.