Tonight I went to a fundraising dinner for a juvenile diabetes association, complete with auction and all.
I couldn’t really participate in the auction given that my bank account flat out refused it, and so I did a lot of clapping and polite smiling at the jokes and comments that the announcer was making that made me feel like a traitor to myself and my beliefs for not launching myself over multiple tables to tear his throat out with my own front teeth.
So we’re nearing the end of the first half of the auction and he holds up a black box with gold accents and says, “Now, I have a bunch of these hair straighteners, ladies, about sixteen of them, HDG or something. We’re just going to sell these straight out instead of bidding because we have so many. Let’s let them go for ten dollars each, what do you say?”
And basically that’s the story of how I bought a totally legitimate, brand new GHD straightener for ten dollars, from the sexist and racist pig who owns two of the most successful Mexican restaurants in Perth.