Seeing Red

Though I am known for my ability to connect with complete strangers fairly effortlessly (an important skill that has served me well throughout my career), I can't even begin to estimate how many conversations I have had, with people I have never met before, about my hair.

Black, white, hispanic, asian, young, old, stoned, sober . . . there's always been something about my hair that compels people to strike up a conversation with me. Thank goodness, it's always to compliment me about the color of my hair, though about one-third of the women follow up with positive feedback regarding my cut/style, too.

I find that many of these conversations about my hair occur in elevators. In the span of an elevator ride (especially when you work on an upper floor as I do), people suddenly become quite bold in their interrogation of a redhead. Questions/statements such as the following are common:

* You must be Irish!
* Do both of your parents have red hair?
* I'll bet you have a temper!
* I hear redheads are wild in bed?
* My first love was a redhead . . . I miss her.
* Does the rug match the curtains?
* I'll bet you burn in the sun!

I began thinking about this phenomenon (i.e. strangers asking pointed questions about me based on my hair color) after reading a column in the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review this week:

http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/search/s_442489.html

Don't get me wrong, as a fairly open and definitely bold chick, I generally do not mind these questions. It just never ceases to amaze me what people will do or say in an elevator if I am on board!