But then it wasn't really over. After a bit of mingling with other people, She and I bumped into each other again, and again, the arm was unfolding as another compliment was being uttered. This time though I reacted. Physically. I can't even say I did it on purpose. I felt my neck straighten and float backwards, leaving my face about an inch away from her outstretched hand. Sure, a photo of the moment could believably have been captioned "A game of Charades. the word is 'Pelican' ". And yes, there was a much more alert and ladylike way for me to handle the situation, says hindsight now (of course). But it all happened so fast...
Nevertheless, we got through the moment, and, I believe, we both learned from it. People (who aren't close to me) don't often try to touch my hair, so the shock and speed of this moment were probably why simple words like "Please don't do that" escaped me. In a way, I'm glad my body took over when my mouth went mute. A situation like this is often steeped in messy subconscious racial dynamics that aren't ready to see the light of day (that is, beyond the gross presumption that it's okay to touch a virtual stranger's hair in the first place, just because it is so other). I didn't have time to think of it in racial terms. I feel readier now, should it happen again. But I'd bet that if it does, it won't be Her doing the reaching.
What about you? Are you a hair toucher? Do you like your hair touched by strangers?
