Best posts made by IrascibleDecoy

I had an old friend who wanted me to meet his girlfriend to vet her and optimally like her, and it turned out that I absolutely hated her. She was strange, demanding and just an overall nuisance. She came to my house, had too much wine and got pretty drunk, they got in a fight over the phone, and as she was leaving she passed a table near the door which happened to have a hairbrush sitting on it. With the innocent excitement of a small child, she turned to me and asked “oh my god can I have your hair?“ and pointed to the brush. I was frankly so done with interacting with her at that point that I did not even question it. I just flatly replied “sure“.

With a bright smile of immense pleasure, she pulled all of the hair out of the hairbrush, gently balled it up, and put it in her left front pocket.

Now, I had no intention of ever speaking to her again. I assumed that I would spend the rest of my days vaguely wondering why someone wanted my hair, but not caring enough to have to deal with the onus of speaking with her to find out. Evidently, she must’ve gotten my phone number from her boyfriend because a couple of weeks later she called me while I was at work and asked me if I had any more hair that she could have. I told her that I did not and I did not have time, and then hung up. I immediately regretted not asking why she wanted it, but I quickly resumed the attitude that I would die never knowing, which was funnier in a sense.

A few years later a woman I had gone to elementary school with contacted me to tell me that the girl who had taken my hair (Hereafter M), had died. It was unfortunate, but I had had a very brief, and relatively unforgettable relationship with her but for the fact that she had taken some of my hair.

Turns out she wanted to make hair art out of it and had saved it. It was still in a special box, which her parents were going to keep. Apparently M had wanted to be friends with me and had lamented not spending more time with me and spoke with some regularity of me to this woman.

To my knowledge, her parents still have my hair.

All the time- I have an uncanny, perhaps awful, ability to accidentally get so sucked into something that I won’t notice someone next to me saying my name. It is obviously my only fault, but one which caused a lot of problems in my previous relationship. There is a feeling almost like my head is moving forward through my face toward the thing I’m paying attention to, and then there’s no hope for a conversation out of me.