Hair apparent

As we’re sitting across from each other, both with our cups of coffee in our hands, the light from the window shines on his fine, strawberry blonde hair and makes it look almost transparent.

Then, I notice something. It looks like a piece of fluff that is flying around the room and has landed on his ear. The only problem with that thought is the fluff is on both ears and it’s probably not fluff.

While we talk, my eyes gloss over parts of his face and back onto his ears. No, it’s definitely not fluff. It’s hair. Random strands of hair. Fine hair. They’re sort of long, but shorter than the hairs on his head. There are a few that wrap around the cartilage of his ears; both of them.

When he moves his head, they don’t fall off. In fact, when he runs his hands over the side of his head, they bounce back into position.

Oh my God, they’re growing out of his ears! Can he not see them? He has to see them because even the blind man who just walked into the coffee shop noticed them. They’re just there. Two inches of strawberry blonde sprouts. If they were a little longer, he could braid them.

When it comes to the personal grooming of unwanted body hair, men are usually swift when it comes to removing nose and ear hair. The occasional hair is fine, because not everyone stands in front of a mirror, primping for hours. Apparently, this guy didn’t get the memo.

Making the matter worse is the fact he’s young and good looking. He’s not an old man with his pants hiked to under his armpits, wearing black socks with sandals, and talking about his childhood during the first world war.

By the time we say goodbye, I make a concerned effort to refrain from saying anything. I just hope that there's a wind strong enough to blow those pieces of fluff from both ears. God, I bloody hope so.