When I walked into the bathroom today I saw Neon Bangs Woman (who, I’ve mentioned before, stopped dying her bangs different colors of neon and went back to a half-bleachy brown-blond, much to my disappointment) standing in a bathroom stall with the door open. Just staring at the opposite wall.

Ok interesting. Was my first thought.

My second thought fluttered out of my mouth as I ducked into the stall next to hers:

“Oh the bangs are back!” I cried after seeing a shock of bright pink hair on top of her head.

“What bangs?” She answered back with her nasal-y, lisping voice.

WHAT BANGS?! They’re neon woman, NEON. And pink. Your hair? It’s PINK.

“Um. Yours.”

“Oh. Well that’s because I dyed the whole head pink but the rest of it fell out.”

Apparently I had ducked into the bathroom stall too quickly.

“What?! Your hair fell out?”

“All but the top. I mean it wasth a real mess—I had to put the vacuum sthweeper to my head to clean it up--- it wasth falling out all over the place.” She let out a long, tired sigh. I wanted to hug her through the wall. But instead I bit my lip in sheer amusement.

I loved that her solution to the problem of over-processed neon was simply: “Oh my hair is falling out. I should suck up what’s left with a vacuum. A vacuum to my head,”.

“Well the top looks really bright!” I said back, trying to remember if I saw a bald head on the rest of her.

I heard her wash her hands before she sighed again and called back to me:

“It’s fading but oh well….next time I’ll get it right.”

Next time?