Walking home from work this evening, I was shadowing (not on purpose! Jeez) this woman with gorgeous hair. Kind of a cool brown, with expensive layers. It was in a ponytail, the kind that's meant to look casual but actually probably took several minutes of fussing to get right. She looked like a fucking Feria commercial.
I imagined what I would say to her, if I were the sort of girl who talked to strangers.
"I hope you appreciate that hair," I might grumble.
I was entertaining other possibilities when she pulled out her lighter. Which she used to light a fucking cigarette.
(If you don't know why I hate this, then I hate YOU.)