The streets are full of promise for those clever enough to watch for it.
Take, for example, hair ties. Why, if a gal plays her cards right, she may never buy an elastic hair tie again. And as someone who regularly pulls her hair into a my-hair-turns-to-baling-twine-in-this-humidity yoga braid – much like your common, everyday braid but with more sweat – I gotta say, let the savings begin!
I mean, look around. Bus stops, intersections, sidewalks.
Who are these people? Clearly they’re on their way somewhere. Is that them, over there, the ones with the flowing locks? Is it those folks over there, the ones with their hair in their faces?
Why do these people hate hair ties?
Or perhaps, the hair ties are migrating.
Maybe they’re tired of that mop you call a head of hair and have just quit, maybe thinking of going into a bit of light cinching.
Perhaps, after a life of living in the cough-drop, Kleenex, hand sanitizer confines of a purse they’ve finally absconded of their own accord.
Most of the time, I am alone when the ground ties make themselves known to me. And I always feel that the experience would be so much more enhanced – if you can believe that! – if there were someone with me.
“Look at that,” I’d say. “Another free hair tie!”
And then that person would shake their head sadly. “Oh, Pearl,” they’d say.
And then I’d just tap the side of my nose and wink. Because I’m the one with the free hair ties.