I wanted purple hair. I paid for some kind of black mess, and I’ve been washing my hair in scalding hot water like it’s my job ever since. Finally, I have all of the supplies I need for some lovely purple highlights, I’ve painstakingly picked out all of the blonde streaks that are left throughout my head, I’m wearing several towels that I’ve decided to sacrifice for the occasion, and one would assume that I’m all set to make with the purple.
Apparently, fate doesn’t want me to fix the botched dye job I got at the salon two weeks ago. Maintenance suddenly decided that it’s time to replace the toilet in the only bathroom available to me. So here I sit, covered in towels with random blonde chunks separated out of my hair, hanging in my face, wondering if I’m going to have to take them out and start all over when it comes time for me to walk across campus and hand in my paper in three hours.
Since I am a senior and I obviously no longer care about what anyone thinks of me, even my professors, I have just sent this:
Dear Dr. Roy,
So I was in the middle of dying my hair purple in my quad bathroom when maintenance decided to pay me a visit and replace my toilet. Until they finish, I have no way of making myself presentable enough to go outside (considering that towels are not exactly an appropriate item of clothing for someone who is not in his or her own home), walk across campus, and hand in my intro and methods.
Oh, the good old days of communal bathrooms when it didn’t matter who was taking up one of the stalls.
We have a few hours to go, obviously, but in case they’re here late and I don’t end up out of this awkward state by 2pm, would you accept my paper by email instead of a paper copy in your mailbox?
Just planning ahead as I sit here, wondering when I’m going to be able to leave again, heh.
-Lauren
Graduation, please? Thanks.
Update: Hey random drunk guy who broke into our quad last semester at 4am to use our bathroom? They found your ID in our old toilet.
