Global Warming

Heather read the cartoon’s caption: “Did you find the shampoo?” the husband asks. The blonde answers, “yes, but it’s for dry hair and I’ve just wet mine. What should I do?”

She smacked the newspaper with the back of her hand. “I’ve had it!”

“What’s wrong?” Amanda asked.

“Another ridiculous blonde joke.” Heather thrust the paper at her friends. “Doesn’t it bother you that we’re made out to be imbeciles?”

Charlene shrugged. “I don’t pay any attention.”

Amanda giggled. Noticing Heather’s glare, she muttered, “sorry, but it was kind of funny.”

“We’re college-educated women. Brunettes are just jealous ‘cause we have more fun,” Heather said. “It’s time we take a stand!”

“You’re right,” Amanda agreed, nodding. “They give me the stink eye when their husbands gawk at me.”

“What do you have in mind?” Charlene asked.

*****

Francesca Hernandez, a local reporter, arrived at Wanda’s World of Wigs, tipped off by a flurry of tweets about a staged uprising. She sat in the van, stunned. Brunette wigs made a flaming bonfire in the middle of Broadway Road. Angry blondes, fueled by blind rage, shouted anti-brunette epithets and smashed store windows.

“Let’s go,” her cameraman, Nate, said.

“Are you crazy?” Francesca asked, her Hispanic accent more pronounced than usual.

Nate’s phone rang. “Ello,” he said. “Uh-huh…. wow.” Another pause. “Let me put you on speaker.”

“Riots have broken out across Europe. Downtown Berlin is burning, Amsterdam is under siege, and there are reports of hostage situations in Oslo and Stockholm. Wait….”

Francesca’s eyes widened. Nate shrugged his shoulders.

“We now have confirmed fatalities in Australia and South Africa. Guys, the Blonde Revolution has gone global and it all started in Phoenix. Get me a story.  Now!”

Francesca squealed as the door opened and the mob dragged her from the van.

“Cut or color?” An angry flaxen haired woman shouted.

“Please don’t cut my hair,” Francesca pleaded as she eyed several bald, crying women.

“Blonde it is!”

“And, here’s our story,” Nate said, camera rolling.

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This is my entry in the Trifecta weekly writing challenge.   We were asked to use the following word in a 33 – 333 word response (mine came in at 333):

BLIND (adjective):  a : having no regard to rational discrimination, guidance, or restriction <blind choice>  b : lacking a directing or controlling consciousness <blind chance>  c : drunk

If you’d like to give the prompt a try, check out Trifecta’s site by clicking on the tricycle picture.

I hope this story didn’t offend anyone of any hair color.  This was simply meant to be a humorous story about what can happen when we let our opinions rule our rational mind.  When we live by the mantra, “everyone is entitled to an opinion, as long as it’s the same as mine,” wigs are going to get burned