This old, beat up hairdryer (above) was once my friend. "Chic" (pronounced - by me anyway - "Chick", not "Sheek") was given to me by Mama Bunny before I left for Penn State in 1985. Chic was once a beautiful and fashionable deep burgundy (like the hairdryer below) and was quite the powerhouse.
When I graduated from college and moved back home to Carlisle, PA - Chic made the move with me. And when I relocated to NYC I brought her along. All the while Chic performed faithfully and admirably every day.
Over the years I've found myself with less and less hair, but Chic always gave me a quick dry after my shower. Unfortunately, as she got older, Chic became less and less dependable - on many days she would just stop before I was finished. So Mama Bunny got me a new hairdryer - our little mother-son tradition. And people wonder why I'm gay.
Anywhore, I just couldn't let Chic go - so I put her in the bathroom cabinet and let her rest. Eventually my replacement dryer died, so I dusted off Chic and she worked again like a charm ... for about 3 weeks.
Yesterday morning as I gave my wet head a quick once-over with my beloved Chic, I thought I smelled fire. Sure enough, Miss Thang was sparking and smoking like a Rastafarian - and before I could react my beloved Chic died. Sadly - this time it was permanent. BTW - the discoloration on Chic is NOT a result of this incident - it's due to being used almost every day for 25 years.
So last night, after taking her picture and saying a little gay prayer ("First I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side...I will survive. I will survive. Hey hey ..."), I put my friend of 25 years in the recycle bin.
May the Sweet Baby Jeebus watch over her fried little burgundy soul...
