A bet is a living entity which cannot be controlled once called into existence. The longer it lasts, the more momentum it gains, and the harder it is to end. Still, as long as the river Testosterone flows through the valley of the Young Adult, bets will be made, and good people will suffer. Such was the case in November, when a trio of seemingly capable young Sagehens made a vow that would cripple their boyish/hulking good looks throughout the twilight of their college careers.

The bet was simply phrased: "You can’t cut your hair until someone else (the loser) does." The booty: twelve pints of Guinness stout to each of the winners. Knowing that I could sport a shag with the best of them, I put my normally military-appropriate cut on the line. Drawing inspiration from such gloriously un-coiffed playboys as A&F Editor David Tuohy ’01 and Dallas Mavericks’ power forward Dirk Nowitzki GER ’98, I felt supremely confident. Unfortunately, I had failed to realize two things. First of all, I had no idea how long this would continue. Secondly, I had totally forgotten the responsibilities that come with having hair.

You see, with a full head of hair comes the necessity for a genuine shampoo, which must leave your ‘do clean, shiny, and soft to the touch. In contrast, a haircut of the Top Gun variety only requires a product to prevent its owner from smelling like wet wool. Anyhow, during my recent tenure as a dead ringer for a CHiPs stand-in, I’ve learned up a few rules that everyone should follow when selecting a shampoo.

Suave is for everybody. Anybody can and should use Suave. Suave is America. It comes in more varieties than I care to count, so let’s just say it fills up about six square feet of frontage on Sav-On’s lower shelves. If you have dry hair, dandruff, psoriasis, astigmatism, whatever, I’m sure there’s a Suave that can help. There has to be. I used to use the Balsam and Protein variety because it kept my hair smelling fresh, but recently I’ve stepped up to a 2-in-1 model, whose conditioner lends a nice sheen to my locks.

By now, you must be thinking, "What kind of money does this guy think I have to spend on shampoo? I can’t afford a shampoo specific to my needs!" Hold your horses, Mr. Pinchpenny, because Suave is about the cheapest shampoo you’ll ever find. The diligent shopper will find that Suave can be had for as little as 89 cents per bottle, which beats the hell out of that fancypants Aveda garbage at my mom’s house. If you’re like me, you’ll use about two dollars of Suave per year. If you’re bucks-down, just take a penny from the little tray at the checkout line every time you go shopping, and your lovely hair will be virtually free. Incidentally, if Suave ever advertised, I think their slogan would be: "Suave, it’ll clean out your hair, but not your wallet."

So, you still think you’re too good for Suave? Well, Molly Ringwald thought she was too good for Judd Nelson just because he didn’t have a bag lunch, but she got over it. So should you.

Herbal Essences is for nobody. I implore you, even if you refuse to buy Suave (Communist), please do not use this abomination from the folks at Clairol. Yeah, I know there are people who like the smell of this awful shampoo, but then again, there are people who think all sweatshirts should have cats on them. Honestly, the scent of Herbal Essences makes me sick, as it swirls in a dense noxious cloud around the unclean head of the offending user.

Just to clarify: if you use Clairol Herbal Essences, and you think your hair smells good, it doesn’t. You smell like a Glade Plug-In. Don’t try to hide it, either. I would know that smell anywhere.

Share your shampoo. Sharing a bottle of your favorite brand of shampoo with your roommate is a great way to build a lasting friendship. You’ll create a team mentality as you share an item in the most intimate of settings. Also, shopping trips together are a tremendous time to catch up, free from the distractions of the campus. Lastly, comments about joint property can be of great use when you need to evade an touchy subject. For instance, if your roommate begins to express frustration about the cleanliness of the room, you can diffuse the situation with a subject-changer like, "Hey, are we out of Suave already?" Of course you’re not, but you will most certainly be off the hook.

My message is a simple one: shampoo can be a rich and beautiful part of your life, if you let it. However, don’t ever think that buying the most expensive shampoo on the shelf will make you a better person, or even make your hair clean. Choosing a shampoo is like choosing a college; it’s not about the price or the reputation, it’s about finding a good match for you. Finally, don’t ever treat shampoo like it’s just another pawn in the chess game of personal hygiene. After all, it’s not soap!