I have curly hair. Sometimes I forget that. It's part of my identity. How people distinguish me.
'Do you know Adrian?'
'Is that the curly haired one?'
'Aye.'
'Yes, I know him. He owes me a goldfish.'
'Me too!'
'Son of a bitch.'
But that's another story. The barman at The Bell this evening really took a shine to my hair.
'It's amazing. Can I touch it?' he asked
If anyone ever asks to touch my hair I always say 'yes'. It's a rule I have. Like only walking on the cracks in pavement or always kicking over ladders.
'Wow. It feels great. It looks great. I wish I had hair like yours.'
'Thank you kindly. I wish you had hair like mine too. Now tell me, have you got a couple of goldfish I can borrow?'
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