spica

Today as I was waiting in the subway, a man approached me to ask about the trains. I was slow, and noticed he was a "wannabe hobo" too late. He asked me why I dyed my hair purple.
"Because I like to, that's why" I replied with a smile.
He asked me if I was a punk, cuz I had what he considered punk hair.
"Nope. And have you seen what they do to their heads? I don't think punks are too fond of hair anyway" I joked.
He then asked me what kind of music I listen to. I told him "A little of everything"
Even some sort of cumbia I couldn't understand the name of?
"Bring it on" I smiled again.
After I had answered all of his questions, he seemed at a loss of words. The TV station at the subway was showing something about a movie, so the man told me his son was an Advertising student, while he just wandered the streets.
At that point of the conversation I was starting to get bored (not to mention annoyed by this man's body odor) and was only wishing for the train to arrive.

In the past I would have backed off, probably wary (and very annoyed to say the least) about a stranger asking me so many questions. Nowadays I just don't care.
I guess I finally got used to being the cute girl with the conspicuous hair. Everywhere I go I catch people staring and I understand. If I wasn't so used to it, I'd probably do the same.

Sometimes people just want to know if it's some kind of statement. If I'm punk, emo, goth or anything in between. I tell them I just like my hair this way.
When guys hit on me, it's always a compliment about my hair. I smile and say "Thank you".

If I had a dime for every time I hear people whisper colors when they walk past me...