I have come to the conclusion that hair is more important than anyone realizes. It is something we all have to deal with everyday; or, in the case of the chrome dome (by choice or not) have had to deal with.
You have to wash it, condition it, comb it, brush it, style it, and dry it. Some of us get it cut every six weeks, others get it colored every two months (something I would know nothing about), and rug rats not only put gum in it, but cut their own, (and each other's), before the adult in the room has had a chance to put the scissors away after clipping coupons.
There are so many decisions to be made about one's hair: wear it short, keep it long, straighten it, or let it go natural. Every morning you make a choice whether to braid it or tie it in a pony tail, or just let it hang free.
There are hairstyles for everything from how you feel, what you're wearing, and where you are going. To that list, I'd like to add: how people treat you. For example, stop in at Wally World after a workout with most of your hair in a messy ponytail and approach the manager about why there are no Hannah Montana lunchboxes on the shelf. He'll call three neighboring stores to see if he can get one for you by tomorrow (and he'll pick it up on his way home from work today). The next day, walk up to that same manager in your Sunday best to inquire why there is none of the soft toilet paper anywhere in the store, and he'll tell you to come back on Thursday after the delivery truck has been here. This may give you some pause as to why "messy" me was treated better that "well groomed" me. For your answer, you only have to look around and realize the store you are in (and the typical clientele of that store). In all fairness, the reverse would happen if you walked into a Niemen Marcus after a workout with your hair looking like a rat's nest; actually, you might not even get out of the revolving door.
Another hair experience occurred to me the other day when I ran out to the local ice cream store and the ice cream scooper behind the counter wouldn't take my coupons. I was getting nowhere as I questioned her explanation ("we don’t honor those here"), even though they clearly stated the location's address on the coupon. Giving up in exasperation, I paid for the ice cream cone and went on my way. The next day I stopped at the same store (I happen to like ice cream cones). As I fumbled for cash, the (this time, male) employee on duty saw my coupons and asked if I would like to use them. I promptly handed them over as payment. Thinking back to the previous day, I wondered if my appearance (hair tied in a knot) affected the attitude the girl working that day felt toward me. If so, it's true what they say about the difference a day makes; because, today I had a kick-ass hair-day and an employee with good customer service on his mind.
Or was it even my hair that was on his mind.