“You’re going to do what to your hair? No, No Michelle. Don’t do that, you already have the weirdest hair in the entire building”.
It was fall of 1995 and those words were spoken by Cheryl. She was a woman I worked with when I lived in Kansas City, Missouri. I worked in the West Port area, which is a funky little place near downtown Kansas City. I didn’t like Kansas City (no offense to anyone who calls that home). I had moved away from the Cincinnati area for the first time in my life and I was out of sorts. For a year. It wasn’t Kansas City’s fault that I was out of sorts, but I still blame Kansas City.