Peers

I had one of those experiences recently that reminded me that I am in a select group. It's nothing I earned. It's just something I was born with, and there are plenty who it doesn't impress one bit, I'm sure. Certainly I myself find it more an irritant than a boon of any kind myself. It's nothing mysterious. It's just my hair, about which I've written in the past. Not too many have hair anything like mine, but there are some who do.

Those who do have hair like mine tend to have a shared experience of others trying to meddle with it. For my part, many people imagine they have the license to make a lot of suggestions on what I ought to do with my hair. I tend to bristle at that, as those with lots of hair tend to do. I also recoil when someone starts getting grabby with my hair. I don't react well to any sort of sudden touching, but that is particularly bad.

You don't get a lot of this stuff from someone "in the club". They are respectful and deferential, even if they are terribly effusive in their praise. Such was the case when I was out at a bar with friends celebrating someone's birthday. The DJ was awfully friendly, responding with interest and curiosity when I requested he play music by Turqoise Jeep (with whom he was unfamiliar). He had a head of hair on him.

He just loved my hair, asking if he could touch it. I consented, albeit with arched eyebrows (as is my way). We commiserated about our shared plight, and he invited me to touch his hair with the parenthetical comment that he didn't usually let people. To be polite, I gave it a feel and was complimentary, as I always hope people will be of me. It was as pleasant an interaction as I could hope to have.