I Just Wanted To Say...

What is your problem?

Location: Georgia, United States

I am me. More than I was, less than I will be. This is difficult. Facts-female, southern, mother and grandmother. Abstract-a Christian, a loner, intelligent, somewhat arrogant, impatient with stupidity, an unusual sense of humor.


Weird Things Happen Because of My Hair

I was born with dark brown hair. A deep, dark warm brown, only a few shades away from black. When I was twenty, I began to see white hairs at the crown of my head. I used dye for about six months and decided the mess and aggravation wasn't for me. So the white in my hair increased. But it grew in streaks and against the darkness of my hair, it looked pretty stunning.
By the time I was thirty-five, my hair was almost completely white. Or better to say, an unusual shade of silver/platinum. When I stand in the sun, it shimmers. In flourescent lighting, the light runs along the strands almost prismatically, reflecting little bits of color. The strands are fine and delicate, but it's thick and soft and straight, curving under slightly at the ends. I wear it simply, a little longer than chin length.

I am a private person. I mind my own business and expect others to mind theirs. But at least a couple of times a week, people make comments about my hair. Usually very polite, kind comments about how they think my hair is pretty or how much they admire it. That's okay. But sometimes my hair causes weird things to happen.

I work at a courthouse, and people are always coming and going. I was walking down a hallway and a older man who had been sitting outside one of the offices rose and stopped me.
"What color is your hair?"
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Your hair, what color is it?"
I was a little stunned, but I said, "Gray... white, I guess. "
No, no, I mean what color do you buy? I've never seen a prettier color and I want my wife to use it on her hair. "
At that point, I looked over and saw his wife, sitting on the bench he had been sitting on. I saw his point. The pale, yellowish blond color she had on her hair really clashed with those angry red slashes along her cheekbones and the deep purple tint of her puffed up face. I couldn't tell much about her eyes though; she had them narrowed almost closed as she glared at him. I politely informed him that it was my natural color and I didn't use anything on it and excused myself and rather quickly walked away. I glanced back and saw him still looking down the hall at me. And I saw his wife stand up. The wisdom of the ages came to me at that moment and it said, "Just walk away".
I did, but I've often wondered what happened to him. Twit.

Before the new courthouse was built, I could walk from work to the finance office, pick up our office paychecks, walk to my bank on the corner, deposit my check and be back at work in thirty minutes. I was standing in line at the bank. There were a couple of people in front of me and I was watching the time when I felt something ruffle through my hair in the back. My first thought was that it was a child being held by their parent. Children like playing with my hair. I turned around to smile. No child, but an adult. A middle-aged female adult. The smile faded and I raised my eyebrows and looked at her. She giggled and said, "I just couldn't resist seeing what it felt like. It's so pretty and shiny. And so soft. " By now, the other people in line were looking, too. I don't like drawing attention and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She reached up again and ruffled the front and sighed. "I wish I could take your hair home." Everyone laughed and suddenly I did, too. But I still felt weird.

There were pre-trial conferences going on and a female attorney was in the office talking with me while waiting for the opposing counsel to arrive. She was wearing a beautiful dark blue velvet jacket embossed with multi-colored flowers. I admired it and she talked about it being her favorite jacket. The door opened and a cadaver walked in. Moderate height, but rail thin. Dark, slick-backed hair with a widow's peak. An oversized head with dark, deep-set eyes, prominent cheekbones and sunken cheeks and the whitest skin I have ever seen on a human being. He introduced himself and his voice fit the rest of him. Slow, deep and whispery. It was the attorney we had been waiting for. He sat down next to the female attorney and we were all silent. He slowly reached over and placed his bony, white hand with it's bloodless nails on the sleeve of her pretty jacket and said, "I really like this jacket." He stroked it a few times, never taking his eyes off it. He moved his hand, then leaned over and took some of my hair between his fingers and said, "And I like your hair." Both the female attorney and I sat frozen.
And all I could think of was "Silence of the Lambs."
Just then, the judge came out of his office and invited them back for their conference. The female attorney jumped up and hurried into the judge's office. Mr. Cadaver let my hair slide out of his fingers and followed her. I sat there, with goose-bumps on my arms and feeling the chills run up my spine. It took a few minutes before I felt like I could even move. About 15 minutes later, the door to the Judge's office opened and both attorneys and the judge stepped out. The female attorney quickly asked to use my phone and the cadaver stood for a moment and then said good-bye and left the office. Of course, she really hadn't wanted to use the phone, she just didn't want to walk out with him.
The office was quiet for a minute, then the judge looked over at me and asked,
"Did he seem a little odd to you?"

Oh yeah.


Blogger RP said...

Creepy. Without question, creepy.

5:41 PM  

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