Would you like to touch my hair?

.1. That question should be asked before you attempt to touch anyone’s hair. Or, better still, you really ought to receive an invitation to do so…I would think this could be something especially sexy (or downright creepy, depending on who’s doing the inviting).

A little while back, T and I were at the movie theatre enjoying a film. We were the only ones in our row, and there were either 5 or 6 boys seated directly behind us. Everyone else in the theatre was to the front of us.

I had my hair down and I had it flung over the back of my seat; I was sitting quite low in my seat and so this was the best way for me to be comfortable because my hair is long.

About a half an hour into the movie, I felt something on my hair, but I didn’t think much of it. Not even the second time, about 5 minutes later. The third time I felt a hand slide across my hair; I think the button on the boy’s sleeve tugged on my hair, and so my senses immediately went into overdrive and I figured out what he was doing. He was playing with my hair.

He was unabashedly touching my hair. This boy who I don’t know.

He was only about 16 years old and so, rather than embarrass him I just opted to sit up and pull my hair forward. I was mildly annoyed, but it wasn’t worth making a fuss.

That was the same evening a couple of gummy bears melted between my legs, but I’ll tell you about that some other time (and it’s really neither as perverted nor as unhygienic as it sounds…).

Earlier today, I should have recalled my feeling of “mildly annoyed” with the little boy.

I went out at lunch and was on the escalator in the shopping mall. (Although I think Madonna is crazy and hasn’t released anything worth shit since Like a Prayer, I felt obligated to purchase Confessions on a dance floor.) In front of me was a woman who had the most extraordinarily beautiful weave. It was this long wavy thick black hair and I was mesmerised by it.

For the first 5 steps, I contemplated touching her hair. Honestly, I couldn’t help myself. When we reached the 6th step, I reached out and touched her hair. I petted her. And then a man walked past us on the escalator and looked at me like I was a psychopath.

Rather than keeping my mouth shut, I kind of mumbled “It’s so soft”. He smiled, cocked an eyebrow and kept going down the stairs.

She never turned around (probably because she was arguing with her boyfriend “you’re such an asshole!” on her mobile). Lucky me.

.2. T lost 15 pounds. As a joke, she’s being introduced as thus: “This is T. She’s lost 85 pounds.”

She doesn’t think it’s as funny as we do.

.3. Madonna’s back.

Download Sorry…and then download Forbidden Love...