Battle of the hair dryers

I have been having a passive aggressive argument about hair dryers for the last year with complete strangers. Every morning after the gym I shower and ready myself in my offices changing room.  A rather important part of my morning ritual is to blow dry my hair into a gloriously sleek and rather less edgy Pecky Blinders pompadour like hairdo. There are two hair dryers in the changing room and in some sick twisted game, there is only one plug. The hair dryers themselves are different models and as far as I am concerned the one you choose to use says rather a lot about you. One is a bells and whistles Babyliss number while the other is a decidedly understated Remington.  In my humble opinion the Remington or as I refer to it, Remi, is a far superior hair dryer, offering up a steady hot stream of air through a thin nozzle. while the Babyliss, rechristened Babs, is a dressed up tart who’s all image. It has blue lights and silver ventilation. You’d get more drying power out of the warm breath of a pensioner. 

After my morning shower I would find Babs is the hair dryer of choice plugged in while poor Remi was still sitting on the shelf, cord still firmly wrapped around her. I would move to plug Remi in and fire her up. Job finished, I would then purposely leave Remi plugged in hoping to inspire my fellow changing room users. Morning after morning, week after week to my deepening concern I would arrive to find Babs the hair dryer of choice.  After months of use  it was starting to show.  It got to the point where Babs was being used with such vigour that her crown and glory her silver vent  had been knocked clean off while in action and she was now bent and exposed on the left side. Do you think that gave her a disadvantage? Nope, it just gave her an edge. It was getting personal. It was time to get serious.

I unceremoniously plugged out Babs and tied her cord around her. I even added a tricky knot to deter usage.  The following morning, Babs was back plugged in. This time I plugged her out and moved her to the other shelf away from the usual spot. No good she was back at it again the following week. I plugged her out. Plugged Remi in. I even found a cable tie and used that to secure Remi’s plug lead around the socket to encourage her usage.  The following week she was back plugged in. Remi was now on the floor half hidden by someones dirty underwear.  Treating her like a common whore. How dare this stranger do this to me and Remi. I moved Babs to the sink area far away from the socket. The following week Remi was found in the washing basket under piles of wet towels, sweaty gym wear and the odd shoe.  Miraculously she was still in working order and the hair she delivered that day was truly a credit to her.  This tit for tat continue for  many months. Finally I came in to find that Remi had been beaten up. It was a clear attack against me. Her poor nozzle was damaged so badly that it no longer fitted the body of the heating element rendering her useless. I was aghast and in mourning for the loss of a solid hair styling tool.  Guiltily I picked up Babs as the day had to go on and Remi, beautiful trustworthy Remi, would want me to carry on.  I fired up Babs slightly dazzled that this would be the first time I would actually be utlising her. The shock to find out that Babs not only had a powerful blast of air piping through her lungs but also an easy switch button to add a sprinkling of cooler air to add that much needed shine nearly knocked me to the floor.  How foolish I had been all along. The conspiracy against me I had concocted up was actually an intervention to save me. Those who I once considered an enemy, were actually an ally.  After I finished getting ready that morning, I wondered back over to the hair dryers. I picked Babs up and smashed her into fucking pieces. I ain't no loser.