I had always figured that my attempts at maintaining decent personal hygiene were adequate, until a few days ago, when a humongous moth flew out of my hair while I was taking a shower.
I’m not exactly sure how long this moth was living in my hair. I would say that it may have been years, except that it has only been recently that I have been attempting to grow my hair out longer, as I am accustomed to having a crew-cut style haircut, which many leading geologists believe is uninhabitable for the average moth. Although, I must admit that it never crossed my mind that having short hair allowed me to experience cool breezes AND simultaneously prevented me from inviting various wildlife to come and live in my scalp. Regardless, I have met several people in my life (i.e., women) who have MUCH longer hair than I do, yet have managed to avoid having humongous moths randomly fly out of said hair while they attempt to wash themselves.
I’m not so sure I can adequately describe the shock I experienced when I immediately realized what had transpired. For starters, the particular moth in question was huuuuge. It was pretty much the size of a Pterodactyl. I mean, just seeing a moth in general bothers me. Like, if I’m walking down the street, and I see a moth, I’m like, “What the hell? Get out of here, you stupid moth.” But this one was enormous, coupled with the fact that my shower is a 2 x 2 cell, and because of my 6’3” frame, I often have to open the shower door just to wash my armpits. So imagine my surprise when I realized I was sharing my shower cell with a large, winged creature that was flip-flopping all over the place, trying to find a new home amidst the loud drone of constant running water.
Allow me specify that I knew the moth originated in my hair because, as I was shampooing my hair, I felt something flickering around up there. It must have frightened him, having his home lathered in soap and water, and he released himself like the proverbial bat out of hell. In fact, it was so freakin’ big that I thought it WAS a bat, and my immediate reaction was to duck. I’m not sure I’ve had a more humbling experience than being butt naked in a shower, and ducking for cover because I thought a bat just flew out of my hair, but that was the position I was in.
When it was realized it was just a moth (“just a moth,” as if that was any consolation), I bobbed and weaved like Muhammad Ali until I was able to frantically douse it with water. Luckily, I have a college degree, and I am well aware that water is like kryptonite to the average moth, mainly because moths can’t swim. Let’s just say it didn’t end well for the moth that had called my head home for an undetermined period of time. Picture the scene in “Psycho,” when the blood in running down the shower drain, except in this case, there was no blood, just water, and a dead moth was prominently involved. I have learned that the shock of finding out something other than dandruff lives in your hair can lead to many drastic things. Even murder.
I kind of just stood there for a while, trying to assess the situation. I had so many questions. For example, “What the #$@! just happened?” “Did a moth just fly out of my hair?” “Where is the conditioner?”
Of course, there is an outside chance that the moth was already in the bathroom, and flew on top of my head after I stepped into the shower, but I just don’t know. Call me a dreamer, but I’d like to believe that something other than hair gel and the occasional Yankees cap have been fortunate enough to call my head “home.” Although, that’s not to say that I hope this moth laid eggs, because if this were to happen again, in some place OTHER than the privacy of my own shower, like for example, a restaurant, I would be a little perturbed.
In fact, it may be time for a haircut.