Being a redhead means one of two things:
- You’re awkward, kinda chubby, and about 18 different flavors of outcast
- Or you’re blessed with every attractive quality possible:
Unless you’re like me and you have that strawberry-blonde hair color, which makes you a strange blend of incredibly awkward, but not hideous to look at. It’s kind of nice, actually, being the weirdo that I am. It means that guys might hit on me at bars, but then when I start talking about Harry Potter and Doctor Who, they’ll leave me alone. It’s a wonderful defense mechanism that requires very little effort on my part.
We all know that I’ve had various awkward conversations in my lifetime. Granted, most of them are my fault, but my hair has become an odd source of these conversations, and since I don’t want to dye my hair for various reasons, the comments that I get never seem to end. Here’s just a sample of some conversations I’ve had:
In the salon:
Hairdresser: Is this your natural color?
Hairdresser: Oh my gawd, I love it. You don’t have any coloring in here at all?
Me: Nope. I’ve never dyed my hair.
Hairdresser: YESSS!!! VIRGIN HAIR!!!!
And that’s when I became very aware of how sacrificial the act of cutting one’s hair can be.
Elderly Woman (think Bathilda Bagshot in the last Harry Potter film before the whole snake thing): [getting very close to my face and peering at me suspiciously] Is your hair red or brown?
Me: Um… Red.
Elderly Woman: Brown?
Me: No… It’s red.
Elderly Woman: Orange?!
Me: Yeah, I guess it kind of is orange…
Elderly Woman: Hm… How did you obtain that?
Me: Um… birth?
Elderly Woman: Well, I’ll be danged!!
And then she just walked away.
Not only did she not believe her own eyes, but she also wasn’t completely sure whether or not to trust that I knew what color my own hair was… and then it wasn’t even “is that your natural color?” but it was “How did you obtain that?” As if I worked really hard to make my hair the color that it is. I concocted potions and mixed dyes together for years in a bubbling cauldron and then I sold my voice to a ragged witch in exchange for this hair color – OH MY GOD, SHE IS THAT WITCH. This woman is going to try and steal my hair. Now I’m terrified.
This must be what Ariel went through in The Little Mermaid. Well, back off bitch, because I HAVE LEGS, SO YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BARGAIN WITH!