Inside was glittery pink slime. I worked a generous handful through the ends of Brittany’s extensions before she sat upright. A teenage boy noticed first. Brittany opened her phone camera and froze. Pink slime stretched from her hair to her fingers, nails, jeans, and eventually her phone. Her livestream audience watched everything as she screamed that I had destroyed $800 worth of extensions. Soon the flight attendant was rushing toward us while half the cabin struggled not to laugh.
Brittany demanded police meet us when we landed, and I accepted that I’d probably gone too far. But instead of arguing, I offered to remove the slime. Using olive oil, I patiently worked it free strand by strand. As I did, Brittany’s anger faded. She admitted she’d spent nearly everything she had trying to look perfect online because everyone on social media seemed flawless. Then she mentioned her late grandmother, who used to braid her hair. Suddenly, the ridiculous battle between us felt very different.
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