I Do Not Like Hairs

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.

4 thoughts on “I Do Not Like Hairs

  1. Has a Dr Seuss feel to it…
    I do not like hairs.
    Stranger hairs lying there.
    On the toilet seat.
    In my meat.
    Stranger hairs
    curling where
    they should not dare.
    I do not like hairs
    but those
    I know.

  2. The first house I ever bought was full of hairs. They were thick, black, and curly – and were omnipresent. They were also very human. We never liked that house.


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