I finally held it in my hands. The Dyson Supersonic hair dryer, freshly unboxed just a few minutes ago. I’d picked it up on sale during the Black Friday special, and it glistened brightly under the bathroom’s fluorescent lighting. I placed the Dyson on the countertop and stepped into the shower, eagerly anticipating what was to be a divine hair-drying experience.

The shower was pleasant, and I toweled off nicely. I plugged the Dyson into the wall socket, then aimed the hair dryer at my head. I turned on the switch, and immediately got down to the drying process. At first it felt nice and warm, but it wasn’t long before I started to smell something burning. I looked in the mirror, and got the shock of my life when I saw that my hair was on fire.

I dropped the Dyson in a panic, and quickly turned on the faucet to splash water on the flames. For every spot that I doused, it seemed like another spot caught ablaze, and I ended up having to put my entire head in the bathroom sink to extinguish the fire. Surely this was grounds for a lawsuit, I thought as I looked into the mirror at my freshly-cooked cranium.

The hair dryer was dangling off of the bathroom countertop, and I grabbed the cord and ripped it from the wall in anger. Unfortunately, the cord tore open where I was holding it, and because my hands were still wet from the faucet, it sent a sharp shock up the length of my arm that was so painful I let out a girlish yelp. I let go and the whole thing fell to the floor, dashing into multiple pieces, some of which ricocheted and lodged into my foot.

I started hopping around in pain, and in doing so I slipped on the bathroom mat and fell ass-over-teakettle onto my back. The force of the fall budged a nearby shelf, and the next thing I knew a cavalcade of shampoos, soaps, deodorants, and toilet paper fell directly onto my face. I turned to my side to dodge the falling items, but in doing so my face came into direct contact with the still-hot end of the Dyson, burning me even further.

I had had enough. I flailed like a freshly-caught fish on the floor, knocking all the fallen items and the hair dryer away from me. The next thing I knew, I heard a giggle come from the door. I looked up and saw that it was wide open, and my little sister was there, a huge smile on her face, with her phone pointed directly at me.

Turns out, I had forgotten to lock the door, and in all the commotion she had darted over and had started filming me for her Instagram story. I begged her not to post it, but the damage had already been done - within seconds the video had gotten over a hundred likes, and by the end of the day it had gone viral on several online media outlets.

I felt like I wanted to Dy, Son.