These seven words begin many of my conversations. Ones with people I love, and ones with people I've just met. It's funny how concerned others are about what people think of me. I happen to be just fine with what most people think, because it truly doesn't matter. However, to most people it definitely does.
I was getting my eyebrows waxed on thursday last week, because really that's the only hair I have on my head and so I should probably keep it decent. A lady named Nancy was the one who chose to take my walk-in appointment. I sit in the chair and lay back onto the porcelain sink...which I think they should invest in making those sinks comfortable but thats a for a different time. Anyway, Nancy didn't wait sixty seconds to ask, "So why you shave your head? You sick or you have a cause?" I expected this question, who wouldn't ask? I explained a little bit, and she thought it was really cool. She said I looked really great without hair, and I'm one in a million who could pull it off. Really generous with the compliments I feel.
However, I had no idea what was coming! She suddenly looks down at me, really serious faced, and says, "You know people are gonna think you're a lesbian." Hm. Then she goes on to ask if I have a boyfriend. Which I embarrassingly answer no...as if that helps anything. But I informed her that I liked guys, and that I wore the hat usually so people wouldn't think that. Not that it even matters. And if I was a lesbian? How would that change anything? Even worse, I felt the urge to defend myself, as if I should care. Instead of making the hat wearing comment, I shouldn't have said anything. I could have left it at I don't have a boyfriend and let her debate my orientation herself. I laughed a lot after this event, just because the whole situation was a bit awkward. I just met a woman who told me people probably think I'm a lesbian. Solid.
This story also gets me wondering...what if I were actually sick? How would it feel to be bald, not by choice, and have someone tell you that people probably think you're a lesbian? Nice. Maybe she wouldn't have said anything. Who knows...people like to open their big mouths more often than I'd noticed pre-hair loss; pre-hair loss, funny terminology. And then...there's the whole factor of her not knowing if I was or was not a lesbian. I met that woman 5 minutes prior to the question. What if I actually were a lesbian? Then what? That could have been one painful conversation for that cosmotologist. Running your words through your brain before they escape your mouth would probably be a good idea for Nancy, and for people in general.
Even getting my eyebrows waxed turned into an exciting afternoon. Never a dull moment.
Sunday, August 16
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