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I am a Victim of Gender Discrimination

As many of you know, God, or maybe evolution, or heredities, or abiogenesis, or some other propositional belief has blessed me with beautiful, curly, lavishly posh hair. Knowing I possess this inimitable head of silk salad, I grow it long fairly often. It’d be a crime against humanity if I didn’t. I had grown it especially long a little over a year ago and I reluctantly cut it short. Kind of like when Michael Jordan quit the NBA to go play minor league baseball. What a disgraceful mistake. But at this present time it is long again, and while it is beautiful in its own homeless drifter kind of way, I will admit I’m currently in a bit of an awkward stage. It has outgrown the ‘Cool yet still somewhat professional Bradley Cooper/Matthew McConaughey’ stage, but it is not quite in the ‘Shoulder-length, nonchalant surfer’ stage yet. I am currently in what I call the ‘Disgusting vagrant’ stage.

“How’s my hair? Is it cool like Phil’s?” – Alan, The Hangover

The biggest misconception about guys with long hair is that they are lethargic. It actually requires a large amount of upkeep… Like when my boss calls me “lazy” or “unmotivated” or “on thin ice” all because I have long hair. He has no idea what type of maintenance is needed. So I’ve decided to step my hair product game up a bit in order to circumvent the split-ends, frizz and breakage. I did some research while also making friends in an online long hair community forum. I had all the answers I needed plus a couple confusing yet enticing private messages from L0nghairfucker69. I headed to Walgreen’s.

I was looking for an argan oil shampoo and conditioner with a type of refining cream. What was most interesting about my search in this St. Louis Walgreen’s was that the hair care aisle was patently racially segregated. On the right side of the aisle all the hair care products had pictures of black people on them and on the left side they all had photos of white people on them. I understand the genetic difference in hair texture between the two so I am not offended. I move on from this observation and turn my attention to the left side of the aisle, despite my longtime curiosity on how afros work.

After a warranted 45 minutes of reading labels and googling product reviews, I come to a steadfast decision that I feel good about.

OGX Hydrate + Repair Argan Oil of Morocco Extra Strength Shampoo & Conditioner: Repair the damage of over styled, brittle tresses with this extra powerful blend of argan oil of morocco to help mend and hydrate while silk proteins help strengthen tresses to give your hair a second chance at soft, seductive silky perfection.

I will buy just about anything with the word ‘silky’ in the description.

Naturally, and like most, I am a big fan of all that Walgreen’s has to offer so I continue to shop around a bit. My interest piques towards the condom aisle. I am staring at all the different types and brands. I see words like ‘thintensity’, ‘ectasy’, ‘ultra ribbed’ and ‘extended pleasure’. I don’t know what any of these things mean but I am intrigued. I contemplate buying some, even though I still have that three-pack leftover from last year. That is until this random lady in the perpendicular aisle walks by and notices my Argan Oil of Morocco shampoo and conditioner.

She stops, looks at me, and has the audacity to utter, “Oh, does your lady like that stuff too?!”

What the fuck do you mean, “Does my lady like that stuff too?” It’s for me you fucking idiot. Look at my hair. You think I use some shitty 2-in-1 made by a deodorant-spray company? (Up until that day I actually did, but that is not the point).

I look at her in outright disgust and respond with, “Hell no, this is for me,” as I grab a handful of my hair as if to put it in her face and be like, “Look at this you stupid bitch.”

She laughs as I walk away appalled.

Two minutes later I pass by this lady again; this time I’m in front of all the different types of mouthwash, which is also captivating but not as much as the condoms. She quickly glances at me and then to no one in particular, she repeats my response, “HAHA! Hell no, this for me, hahaha.”

At this point I have never been more offended in my entire life. I can honestly say I am now a victim of gender discrimination. I now know what women in several conservative communities across Saudi Arabia and Pakistan are going through when they are forbidden to drive a vehicle or go out in public without a male chaperon. It’s almost a perfect analogy for what I just experienced.

I am so sick of these gender stereotypes and all this sexist prejudice. ON BOTH SIDES. What is wrong with guys wanting to revitalize their hair? Why are all the most famous tyrannical dictators men? Why don’t men get paid maternity leave? Where are all the female computer hackers? How come when my ex-girlfriend slept over at my place she could wear my clothes to bed but when I stayed at her place it was considered “super fucking weird” to wear her clothes to bed? Why didn’t Jennifer Lawrence make as much money as Bradley Cooper or Christian Bale in American Hustle? How come Bradley Cooper and Christian Bale had to pay more taxes than Jennifer Lawrence from their paychecks in American Hustle? How come women can look sexy drinking fruity cocktails but when men do it we look ass-puckeringly gay? As you can see I am fighting for both sides here because I am an equalist™.

Am I hero because I bought nice hair care products in the face of adversity? Maybe, yeah. Hero actually sounds pretty fitting. But my point is that it needs to stop. Now that I have been victimized due to my Y chromosome, I am ready to lead the fight against gender discrimination. Like a modern-day Susan B. Anthony… “But Mike, isn’t Susan a woman? You’re a man. How can you be a modern-day Susan B. Anthony?” I’ll tell you why. Because we are equal. So who’s with me?