Please Don't Touch Me With Your Hair

Please don't touch me with your hair.

I mean, I'm sure you washed it.

Actually, now that I am thinking of it: how do I know that? It's just an assumption. A hope. A belief in your general sense of duty that you clean yourself (head included) daily. But, from what I am told about women, they don't wash their hair every day. Something about how it's shinier if they don't. And also there's a preference to wash hair in the evening because it takes so long to dry or something. Which means if you washed it last night, it's been on your dirty pillow all night.

And I've seen the Dateline NBC when they used the black light to show us what is on hotel pillows, so I can only assume that your pillow is likely worse than the good folks at Marriott.

So, I am going to take it back. I don't think that you have washed your hair. I am not THAT trusting of an individual and frankly speaking, you're a little casual with your hair flipping.

Here I am: reading my book my book on the subway (like a smart and responsible individual caring about the environment by using mass transit) and I get whacked in the face with your hair, which has been God-knows-where!

Where is a transit cop when you need one?

I feel violated.

Bonjour! Some say I have perfect hair, mon ami!

I am a self aware individual. I have size 11 feet and if I step on a person's foot on the train, I apologize sincerely. But you - YOU - just whack innocents with your Rapunzel-like hair day in/day out and laugh it off with your friends. 

Since this is a democracy, you get to grow your hair to whichever catastrophic level length you choose, while I keep my hair nice and trim. Some have even said my hair is perfect. "What a nice hair cut, Greg!," they exclaim. 

You might get the same praise if you go a little more to the shorn side. 

And I'm sorry for so personally attacking you. Because you aren't the only one who is committing this crime. It really has gone to epidemic levels. 

Why - I can remember just last week when I was on my way to a nice Saturday night dinner with some friends and I got a mouthful of hair. I was casually minding myself at the bar and waiting for my friends and - BAM - violated by someone long haired. A girl, no more than 25, threw her hair up in the air to look flirty (and let's face it: trampy) to her male companion and whacked me right in the face. Evidently, not only are "long hairs" completely unaware of the tight social spaces we face in large, metropolitan areas like Brooklyn, but also the very split ends of their hair are so dead they cannot tell when they hit people. 

It's a cause for concern! 

I've thought about alerting local authorities, the media or perhaps a support group, but in the end, it's me  - a "short hair" - against a "long hair" world.

Just don't mind the person with a face mask on a subway. He isn't a criminal. He is just simply avoiding the "real" criminals out there.