Friday, August 26, 2005
"You have a lot of hair." I slowly lift my head to see a strange looking man sitting next to me on the 2 train. "It is nice and soft." I make a fake smile and pretend to read the advertisements in the car. Am I shedding? How does he know I have soft hair? Perhaps he touched it while I dozed off in between stops. Note to self: wash hair when I get home. "How did you get so much hair?" I look up to see if he is touching my head and when I realize he is not. I notice that he is staring at me kind of like a dog at the kitchen table. "You look happy?" I give him a blank stare and nod like a doll. Maybe he will think I don't speak English. "How did you get to be so happy? Are you always this happy?" I am thinking "Happy??!! Buddy, I am freaked out and praying that you and I do not get off on the same stop. Are we there yet?" And then I hear it like a sign from God "42nd street". The train conductor to the rescue. I get up and what do you know, so does Paul Mitchell. I slowly begin to see if I can get lost in the crowd, and I manage to escape. I have lived in NY long enough to know there are strange people out there, but I have a feeling that my radar is picking up more than usual this past week. Trust me I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.