Shampoo

 There was a time I had luscious, flowing, locks of auburn hair.

Picture Fabio but not a blonde.

And not in as good a shape.

And not as good looking.

Aside from these caveats I was basically exactly like Fabio, ready to grace the cover of a romance novel on horseback, with my gossamer shirt thrown open by the wind, luxurious hair, trailing behind me.

Because of all this hair I was in the market for shampoo.

I read somewhere that people choose their shampoo not be how well it cleans hair, which you would think would be the real trait people are after, but by its smells.

I was dumbfounded by this information.

In choosing shampoo for myself went into the shower to see which kind my sister used. I had borrowed a bit one time when I was out of shampoo myself, and lathering up I remember thinking: this smells like grapefruit. It must be doing to dirt what it does to my tastebuds!

Now, I loathe grapefruit. Why they are sold at grocery stores is something I've never been able to puzzle out.

I will accept only one use for grapefruit and that is shampoo ingredient.

One whiff of that gaggingly astringent odor and the dirt hiding in your overgrown follicles will beg for mercy.

These days my hair is much shorter.

As it turns out women are only into long hair on themselves and on romance novel covers. Real life guys not so much.

But if you need a real clean, go with one that smells like it could curdle battery acid. Go with one that smells like grapefruit.