On my morning commute I spied a quite new Rolls Royce rolling behind me on the freeway. I didn't think too much about it until I noticed the license plate which read "CHI USA". The Chi HQ is in the Houston area and the CEO actually ran for Mayor of Houston during the last election cycle.
I own a Chi. I've had the flat iron for about 2 years. Two months ago, the fucking thing started going wonky on me. I have to now wiggle the cord to get it to stay fired up...it's reminiscent of holding the rabbit ears over the TV back in the day. And I'm really far too lazy and impatient to stand around waiting to get cute.
As I sidled up to the Rolls on an off ramp this morning, my inner child BEGGED ME to coerce the Rolls off the road. My younger self was convinced that she could talk the Chi CEO into a shiny new Chi seeing as how her current Chi has shit the bed. Thankfully, my real (read: grown up) self had the smarts to drive straight and not pull a Fast and Furious on old Chi guy. Obviously, my stupid inner child has no idea what jail is.
I just now decided to write the following letter to Mr. Chi-man:
Dear Farouk:
I have a dysfunctional Chi. Please send me a new one. The address listed below is where my hair lives. Graci!!
p.s. I saw your nice rolls today and you should totally thank me for not releasing my impulsive and irrational inner child.
Signed,
Idjit
I hope he sends me a red one.
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