I do not like other people’s hairs. I do not like them in my food. I do not like them in the shower or on a toilet seat or in a sink or touching me. I know this is slightly ridiculous. There is just something about another’s hairs curving or curling and lying there in a sauce or remaining, reminding me of another’s skin cells lining the space. The worst are hairs on public toilets. They leave little doubt from whence they came. I will not sit on them. If the seat is damp enough they cannot be removed by breath, I do not sit there.
I do not mind Milla’s hairs or Dan’s hairs or even pet hairs really. I actually enjoy running my hands and fingers through those hairs. It is the stranger hair or the person less than close to me hair that really creeps me out. I would just prefer not to touch it or have it in the shower with me, that’s all.
I know. I’m weird. I get it.