Crazy 80s

It was about 1989 when my closest friend and I went to the movies with her parents. I mention the year to take you back in time, when big hair was all the rage and torqued lighters were too hot to handle. What’s a torqued lighter? This, my friend, is a simple surgical procedure that untrained teens performed on cigarette lighters. See, we took disposable lighters apart, and raised the flame to go at least twelve inches above the level of the flint. Cool kids only used torqued lighters and I was cool, or so I thought. Debbi and I went to the bathroom to smoke a cigarette, yes; you could actually smoke in the bathrooms of the movie theater. Prior to saying, “Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.” I teased my big hair into place and added another can of hair spray to the gallon already shellacking my hair in place. After each piece was firmly in place I lit my cigarette and like any cool fourteen year old and I took a long drag to prove just how cool I was. Debbi looked at me and began to scream, “Oh my God!” “What?” I asked as I tried not to laugh at her insane screaming. “Your hair!” I looked in the mirror and there it was all of my hair aflame, I froze in horror as Debbi smacked the flames down with her suede fringed purse, which began to singe. Finally, we managed to get the flames to simmer down and I ran to the sink to douse my now short hair under the water. Mortification became the word for the day, but there was nothing worse than on the ride home Debbi’s parents opened the windows to allow the stench of fried human hair out into the cool February air. The next day I used blue mousse to spike my hair and made the reluctant move from 80s cool to 90s spikes.