Spacer Long Hair
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Long Hair

File this one under "what the hell is wrong with people?!"

Those who have seen me in person or photograph know that I have long hair. Comes down past my waist even when braided.

The comments are plenty irritating. One guy in the subway asked if I wanted to sell any of it. Another remarked that she hadn't seen hair like it since her hippie days (hastily adding that of course I don't look old enough to have been a hippie). But then there are those for whom remarking on the obvious ("You have really long hair"—where is Douglas Adams when I need him?) is just not enough.

Take the incident that precipitated this particular rant. Last week I was in the grocery store when I felt a tug on said braid and turned around to see a grinning cashier, who remarked (of course) on its length. I was too taken aback to actually say anything. I'm still not at all sure what one should say under such circumstances.

Prior to that, our dancing instructor used it to remind me to keep my head up (only once, though—I don't know if it was because of the look I gave him or because I have been keeping my head positioned properly since). A former friend of mine was downright fascinated with it, to the point of pleading for permission to tug on it.

Am I the only person who remembers learning to keep my hands to myself in preschool? Am I going to have to get my hair cut just to keep these idiots from acting like a cat with a piece of string in my presence? And can anyone write to me with suggestions for witty things to say when people I don't know feel free to seriously invade my personal space?

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Except where otherwise noted, all material on this site is © 1999 Rebecca J. Stevenson