I want to be cool so bad it hurts. The yearning burns inside me like a hell sent demon beating against my bones.
I've always been a bit on the nerdy side and now I know why. After countless hours watching anime, I've come to realize
that the cool people always have their hair blowing in the wind while the dorks have straight, unmoving hair. I need
my hair to blow, blow in the wind, billowing gracefully while I speak and walk and play.
Hypothesis, check.
Setting? People don't get cooler than the denizens of the Venice boardwalk. It is there where
I will emerge from my geeky cocoon into anime suavity.
Now for materials. I don't know of any wind tunnels or nearby jet propellers that I can set up to blow my hair.
I settle on the simple high-powered desk fan. It's a tough decision, but I finally conclude that the fan will be less
obtrusive than strategically positioned friends blowing into my hair. I will set the fan at my feet pointing upwards
at my hair. And a nearby street performer says I can use his extension cord, so I am all set.
"Hey, dudes, can you not all feel the love," I shout, hair blowing in the wind. I notice people already stopping
to listen. Probably because I look so cool. "No, then maybe you got an itchin' in your soul that just won't go away."
More people stop, but they seem to have angry glints in their eyes, and one woman shakes her fist at me. I take it as
a clue to shake my fist. Fist clenched tight I continue, "Fight on, fight against your mediocrity and flat hair.
Look upon my undulating locks and embrace the greatness."
My hair still blows magnificently in the wind. However, my solipsism is not winning the hearts of these people.
A speech of unity, perhaps. "So, we of varied hair, if ever a space alien culture comes to take over the world, we
should all band together and kick butt." My new global patriotic message works and the crowd eases into head bobbing
agreement. Time for my last thought: "And in the end, we shall defeat all alien enemies because Earth people are cool!"
People in the crowd start shouting, "No, you're the cool one." "No, you're cool too," I retort. "No, we have
uninteresting hair. You are the cool one." I just smile. I receive a roaring round of applause, which I accept
with an air of ultra coolness as my hair continues to blow in the wind.
To conclude, I knew my experiment would work. How can someone delivering a speech with blowing hair not be cool?