Way Back Whensday: Just Tell Me Your Name!

College was a few years ago for me. At the time, I was living in residence and I had been assigned a roommate named Janice. She is probably one of two people I have ever met who could make me seem untalkative. For people who know me well, that is truly a feat. Surprisingly though, we got along quite well. We were young and we had just turned 19, the legal drinking age in Canada. We were living in the biggest city in Canada - Toronto. We were just a streetcar ride away from the club district.

We were out partying with some friends and it was getting late. We had drank quite a bit and it been a while since we had eaten anything, so we decided to get some McDonald's. We got some food to go and hopped on a streetcar to go back to our residence.

I'll take this time to explain a couple of things. I have shorter hair now, but at the time I had long that reached past my shoulders and looked like this ----->

Janice and I knew we were going out, so as girls do, we had gotten all dolled up. That included straightening our hair. So when we went out my hair was even longer and, if I do say so myself, looked pretty good.

At this point, we are now on the streetcar and eating our chicken nuggets and chatting away like the drunk teenagers we were. All of a sudden, I feel fingers running through my hair. At first, I just thought I was drunk and imagining things. After a moment, it gets more persistent. Not only is someone running their fingers through my hair, but now someone is massaging my scalp and sniffing my hair. I am now weirded out and I turn around with my chicken nugget in hand and look at the person who is touching my hair. it is some guy who was at the club with us. Janice has just noticed what is going on and proceeds to turn around to look at the guy as well. She looks back at me and then back to him and says, "Um, hi there, do you think you could stop touching my roomie please?"

The guy does not stop. He continues doing what he's doing and the conversation carries on a bit like this:

Guy: I MUST know your name! Tell me your name!

Me: Ya, that's not going to happen. Please stop touching me.

Guy: I cannot! *SNIFF* Just TELL me your name!

Me: Umm no thanks, I really just want to eat my chicken nuggets.


The guy has a friend sitting with him who had been quiet up until now. He pipes up and the conversation carries on:


Other Guy: Dude, our stop is coming up. Knock it off, we gotta get home.

Guy: I can't go home, I MUST go home with her.

Other Guy: Dude! She wants you to leave her alone. C'mon, we're almost there.

Me: Ya, please listen to your friend.


He doesn't.

The guy continues to run his fingers through my hair. Janice and I are creeped out. I mean, we were creeped out before, but we are more so creeped out now. These guys aren't BAD looking or even that creepy if you're just looking at them. It's just what the guy is doing to my hair and insisting on coming home with me that is so particularly creepy. The guy's streetcar stop has now passed and he is still sitting behind us. At this point we are fed up with this guy and I most definitely want him to:

a) come home with us
b) know where we live
c) did I mention I just wanted to eat my damn chicken nuggets?

I wish that this story had a funnier ending but the way we ended up getting this guy to leave me alone was pretty simple. I'm sure that if we had been sober, we would have thought of it much sooner. The guy was continuing his creeptastic advances, Janice finally grabbed my arm and we went up to the front of the streetcar to sit with the drive. Sure enough, the guy got off at the next stop.

The moral of this story is this:

Do NOT let strange men run their fingers through your hair.

The End.