Personally, I have a thing about people I don't know unexpectedly touching me.

In the absence of having a connection to the internet at home, I often venture down to (one of the many) Panera bread stores here in Nashville. They offer acceptably mediocre food and mostly-acceptable prices, but more importantly than the quality of their culinary delights is their free wifi.

It's not a bad place, mostly. If I'm feeling hungry, I can grab a sandwich, or a drink, and relax in a nice chair next an electrical outlet while surfing the web. Now, as with most good ideas, I haven't been the only one to think of this. Panera is constantly filled with people hanging out leeching wifi. One of the regulars is an older gentleman with graying hair and glasses. He's the chatty sort who seems to enjoy talking to anybody he sees more than once here. Of course, since I'm constantly here, he always says hi when he sees me, asks how violin is going, (he's seen me carry it in before) and generally makes small talk.

This doesn't bother me one bit, friendly people are nice, and much more pleasant than rude, obnoxious people. Also, I'm a physical sort of person with people I know. I have no problem with hugs, friendly pats, high-fives, etc. However, for strangers, touching my hair is definitely off-limits.

I was standing in the drink line last Saturday before my lesson, refilling my raspberry tea. Suddenly, I felt a hand slide up the back of my head. Suppressing the instant urge to whip around and pull away, I instead turned slowly to see Mr. Talkative with his hand in my hair and a creepy grin on his face.

"It's like a Japanese finger trap!" he exclaimed.

"Chinese, perhaps?"

"Yeah!"

And with that I sauntered off, deeply disturbed.

Exit, stage left. Sparks