"What the fuck is that?!" enquired a customer at my workplace last week.
I looked up startled, then looked around, completely baffled as to what he might be referring to. He was clearly staring right at me. Had I been doing something odd? Did I have something on me? Was there a slimy space monster bursting out of my chest like that horrible scene from Alien?
|'Cause that would definitely warrant his question.|
Ohhhhh, it's my hair!!
I gave a half-hearted, awkward laugh. Most of my time at work is spent in the warehouse, but occasionally I have stuff to do up front. This means I occasionally interact with customers. And this particular one was a little cantankerous.
"That shit looks like it's flammable," he continued, "I think you should cover that up."
I shrugged and went back to what I was doing. Stan asked the customer what he needed and the two of them went off to find some product. I heard the customer add, "I've never understood why someone would fuck up their hair like that."
Stan, clearly adept at using humour to defuse awkward situations, responded, "Ah, you never know— maybe some day I'll head off to Vegas and come back with a head full of dreadlocks!"
"Ugh," said the customer with obvious disgust, as I tried and failed to picture Stan with dreads.
Next week it'll be four years since I started my dreads. Back then I reminded myself that different people see the world differently, and to some people dreadlocks might look stupid, and I can be okay with that. So this fellow's comments didn't really bother me. Mostly I'm just amazed that anyone takes the time to say mean things at all. It's hard to imagine what the point is.
I'm glad my co-workers have got my back though. I mentioned in my previous post they didn't seem to mind my pretty nails. They don't seem to mind my goofy hairstyle, either. :)