I had a dream I was flossing my teeth with my hair in public last night.

Yep. Last night, I had a dream, more of a nightmare, I was flossing my teeth with my hair in plain sight in public.

Normally, I save that for behind closed doors, or in my car – you know, in emergency floss situations. Don’t proudly start that sentence off with “normally”. There’s nothing normal about it.

Oh. So you’ve never done that before, ladies? You’ve never been in a situation where you had no choice but to pluck a strand from your own head of hair and jimmy it between two chompers to rid an offensive mouth dingleberry? I’m not buying it.

But. I’ll play along. It’s Saturday, my kid’s still napping peacefully and I’m feeling generous.

Here we go. Picture this scenario: You’re out on a date. He’s cute. Seems nice. Things are going well. There’s a break in conversation so you excuse yourself and make a pitstop to the ladies’ room to powder your nose. We ladies are so dainty and fragile. Right, keep reading.

You float over to the mirror. At first glance, you like what you see. You’re even having a phenomenal hair day. Then you lean in for closer inspection (in case the guy has a magnifying glass on him to inspect your clear to clogged pore ratio after dinner). You flash your charming smile only to be slapped in the face by a honker of a seed or a Green-Giant-size spinach leaf living between your two front teeth.

You try wedging a finger nail in the crevice to evict the unwanted occupant. The creature doesn’t budge. In fact, it seems agitated and to have grown, increasing its visible surface area, spreading out and claiming more grin real estate.

You exasperatedly attempt to plunge it out with forceful tongue thrusting. No dice. The aggressive thing is clearly hanging on for dear life. You’re thinking that it must have tiny suction cups on its miniature spinach legs like an octopus or something.

You’re sweating now. Pitting out big time. Panic has set in. Plus, the clock is ticking – you’ve spent an exorbitantly long time in the bathroom gawking at your mug, leaving your date no other choice than to assume that the sushi (maybe that’s seaweed, not spinach lodged in there) didn’t sit well with you. Another huge turn-on and second date catalyst. Awesome.

You consider your options. If you march back out of that powder room with the chunk still dangling there, you’ve got balls. But probably no followup date.

Plan B? Pluck a strand of your gorgeous locks and floss that barbaric intruder right out of there. Fling him onto the bathroom mirror just to show him who’s boss. Make an example of him. Send a message to all future foods thinking of taking up residency between your teeth during a date. Food particles are smarter than you think.

So. Now, after my riveting hypothetical tale of horror, do you understand where hair flossing could be necessary? What about travel size tooth floss, you ask? Well aren’t we prim and proper. So sorry to ruffle your feathers, Suzy Strait-Laced.

Some of us, like Bear Grylls, like to be prepared for all situations in the wild (for me, the public can be even scarier the wild). Sometimes I, myself, am my only resource. As a result, I believe in keeping one’s hair long – chin-length minimum – for emergency floss situations and such. And conditioning during every shower; you need those strands as strong and flexible as possible so as to not snap mid-floss. Now that’d be embarrasing. Not only do you have a deformed wad of dinner between your teeth, you also have what looks to be hair sprouting there.

Oh well. That’s my case for hair floss. I strongly advocate you try it next time you’re in a pinch. And if you’re feeling really magnanimous, pluck a strand for your date, too, while you’re at it. He’ll appreciate the gesture.

Here I am hair-flossing. No, I'm not wearing a yamaca, that's an arrow indicating the spot on my head from where I plucked the winning strand. Yes, my right hand is a crab claw. It's something I've had to deal with my whole life. And I've got leggings on with this skirt. I'm not a skank.

Here I am hair-flossing. No, I’m not wearing a yamaka, that’s an arrow indicating the spot on my head from where I plucked the winning strand. I know what you’re thinking, and, yes, my right hand is a crab claw. It’s something I’ve had to deal with my whole life. Also, I know this skirt is short. I’ve got leggings on, ok? I’m not a skank.

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One Response to I had a dream I was flossing my teeth with my hair in public last night.

  1. Joan Hickey says:

    What a great idea for shampoo companies! Advertise the product to make one’s hair shiny and voluminous and strong, really, really strong! Tooth-flossing, stubborn spinach-removing strong! It could be called Gloss and Floss.

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