A different rant about quality control and a trippy trip to wally world.

Yeah, I have to order them because I can’t find any place around here to buy them.

My particular shade of blue is made by Jerome Russell’s  Punky Colors. I use the Atlantic Blue. It’s bright and intense… I love it. Well, I ordered it, and it came in. Only the shipper sent me the Midnight Blue color instead. 

In case you are wondering… the Midnight Blue is much darker. 

Thing is… I didn’t notice that it was the wrong color until I had already done the preparations for dying. If, like most people, you’ve never dyed your hair an “un-natural color”, you probably don’t know what that entails. Normal hair doesn’t take bright colors well, so you have to treat it first – you have to bleach it. 

So, since my roots were showing, I bleached em out. Then, with the glee that only a 6’9″ half ferret/half man can muster, I bounced into the bathroom to get my dye…

WRONG COLOR!

I know. No shocker since I’ve already given you spoilers. The problem is, I already look like that photo… I CAN’T leave it like that… That would be embarrassing. 

I contacted the company. They INSIST that I got what I ordered. They looked up my order and told me they sent the right thing. I asked them how they knew there wasn’t an error. She told me they had just done their yearly inventory and the numbers of these two things were spot on. 

So I was left no choice. I went ahead and dyed my hair midnight blue… I dyed it. UNDER. PROTEST.

I got the stuff applied. rubbed it through, making sure that all of my hair was thoroughly wetted. Then I put on my processing cap. It’s kind of like a clear shower cap designed to keep moisture in, instead of out. It traps heat under the plastic. Heat helps the hair take the color better. 

Why, you ask? I have no idea… it just does.

I let the cap snap into the place and I was struck by one of the strongest cravings I have ever experienced. I just HAD to have chips and salsa. 

Why? Why do I need chips and salsa? Because every time i have ever dyed my hair an un-natural color, I have had chips and salsa…

IT’S TRADITION, DAMMIT!

Okay, okay… I admit it… It’s tradition, but there is a more powerful motivation. I have been conditioned, Pavlovian style, like a dog. I smell the fruity smell of the dye (Jerome Russell’s Punky Colors smells fruity) – and I just HAVE to have chips and salsa.

SO… I run to the kitchen, all ferret bouncy like, throw open the cabinet.

I am greeted by a cupboard decidedly lacking in chips and completely barren of salsa. 

I wept… I fell to the floor, beat my fists on the floor and kicked and screamed…

Then I stood up and looked in the cabinet again… still no salsa. 

I made an executive decision… “WE ARE GOING TO WALMART!” I told the roomie/pet psychotic. 

And off to Walmart we went… Color cap and all. 

It wasn’t much of an adventure – in, grab salsa and chips, get out – but we took pictures. Here they are.

There you have it. Photographic proof that I exist and have been to Walmart. I will be surprised if I don’t get on to People of Walmart. 

Sorry about the low quality of the images, but in my past adventures, I have learned that Walmart hates it when you take a professional camera into one of their stores… I think they are afraid that you might catch photographic evidence that their managers don’t have shadows or reflections (These are classic signs of them being demons or soulless undead.)