I remember my first time fondly. I slipped into my pink robe and made my way into the bathroom where my lover was waiting for me. He was so hot, hot to the touch. I let down my hair, grabbed hold with a firm grip and slid him over a hearty lock of my dark frizzy hair.

Aaaaah the Chi Flat Iron.

It is by far one of the tools in my beauty arsenal that I cannot live without. After my first Chi experience I quickly became obsessed. The flat iron belonged to my older sister, but I was the one who always used it. It always puzzled me as to why my sister purchased the Chi in the first place. Her hair is super coarse so it looks good bouncy and full. My hair is naturally wavy so when I merely blow-dry, my head resembles something of a helmet/afro/mushroom. It's big, it's burly and it's there to stay unless I do something about it.

After I used the Chi I couldn't get over how straight my hair was! I looked like a different person. It was a miracle. I didn't let the Chi out of my sight. Everywhere I went, Chi was sure to follow.

Then this past summer, I experienced heart break. It was fourth of July weekend and I had just cut my hair into a very chic shoulder length style. I loved it but my stylists' parting words were, "You have a flat iron right? Because this style really works with a flat iron."

I glanced over my shoulder and replied, "Oh yeah. I have The Chi."

That night I was packing for a week down the Cape. I sauntered into the bathroom to grab Chi. I don't know what happened but next thing I know he was lying on the ground, one of his yellow flat iron paddles was dangling off, like a broken wing.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! (EXPLETIVE. EXPLETIVE. EXPLETIVE!!!!)"

I craddled Chi in my hands and assessed the damage. Maybe I could just pop the paddle back into place.

That didn't work. GAH!!

Could I Gorilla glue it back in? I thought about this for a minute and then realized that this probably wasn't the best thing.

I couldn't believe I'd been so careless. But what was done was done and I needed to focus on finding a replacement. That night I thought about where I could source a new Chi and as I drifted to sleep, I swear I heard taps.

Luckily, the first two days on the Cape were perfect beach weather and my hair style consisted of a pony tail, head band and half a bottle of Banana Boat SPF 8. During the first rainy day we had I hopped into my car and made a bee-line for the first store I could find.

K-Mart.

The aisles were packed with wanna-Chi's. I eyed their shiny exteriors; their flashy colors. They taunted me with their promises of silky smooth hair and true ionic nature. But I could see passed their smoke and mirrors. None of these imposters were Chi.

I finally settled on a straightener by Revlon. It was $25 and most resembled Chi. When I arrived home to test it out I was immediately disappointed. The paddles did not glide over my hair, they got caught and pulled at it causing breakage and even more damage. I was crest-fallen.

I went the entire week without Chi. I was almost embarrassed to go outside due to the state of my hair. Then one day, weeks later I happened into Bed Bath & Beyond. I needed some new sheets and I was passing through the aisles there he was! Chi was right there by the cash register locked behind clear plexi-glass doors.

"EXCUSE ME!" I yelled to the first person I saw, not even sure if they worked for Bed Bath & Beyond. Luckily they did. "I need that Chi."

"Uhm...Ok. Let me go see if we have one out back."

"What do you mean!!! You might not have him in stock?"

"Well ma'am that's the display right there but I don't see any in the case. I'm sure we have one or two out back."

"I need this Chi. I need him."

Besides the fact that my hair was probably standing on end due to it's lack of Chi, I was referring to a straightening iron as 'him.' I'm positive I looked crazy.

The Bed Bath & Beyond employee managed to wrangle up a Chi for me and I sprinted to the cash register.

"Oooooooooooh. This is that famous Chi huh?" The girl behind the register was man-handling my flat iron.

"Yes."

"DAYUM GIRL! THIS THING IS EXPENSIVE!!! YOU REALLY GONNA SPEND THAT MUCH MONEY ON A STRAIGHTENING IRON???"

I pointed to my head, "Do you see my hair?"

She paused for a minute and took inventory of my hair and then glanced at the box in her hands. "Yeah I see what you mean."

I slept peacefully that night. And the next morning I stepped into the bright sunshine with silky, shiny, stick straight hair and I haven't looked back since.