Reasons why I hate public transport #17

Whilst travelling  home – I had the luxury of a half empty bus, until an elderly gentleman boarded. As he approached, I could smell  a faint stale & boozy aroma – and obviously he decided he I’d be the perfect company &  sat next to me.
I thought – Fine, whatever – at least he doesn’t smell like pee.

He then turned to me & with a thick accent that I could barely understand, asked me who does my hair.
I really wasn’t expecting that – so told him I do it myself and he complimented me on how lovely my hair was.  He then continued the conversation all about hair – my hair, other peoples brightly dyed hair and just generally how lovely dyed hair is……..

It was fine – a little strange, but fine.  Until he reached out, and attempted to stoke my hair.
Life went into slow motion – I threw myself as far into the window as possible,in an attempt to distance myself  from the slowly approaching grotty old man hand.

Eurrrgh!

As politely as I could – I informed him not to touch my hair.
Never touch my hair. My lovely CLEAN hair. My hair free of nasty pervy old man hands.

Why would someone do that?
– I don’t want my hair to be soiled with old man hands, oap germs, dirt, booze, penis – and whatever else he’d been fondling.

He apologised  and  I just glared in my state of horror & confusion.
So he got up & got off the bus, as he did – starting to talk to another lady about her hair.

So I think that was my very first encounter with a hair fetishist – That’s not something I knew existed before, or would have imagined would be a ‘thing’ – but I guess whatever tickles your pickle.
I was left pondering why these things always happen to me, do I have all the ‘luck’?  Am I  just a giant magnet for all the cray-crays?

– Or do similar occurrences happen to anyone else? Feel free to comment & tell me if old men randomly try to grope your hair.

 

 

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