erika_sanely

Last week I got a haircut. I started with what I like to call "Snape-hair". You know the look; incredibly long fringe at the front. It was probably the same length as Snape's. Finally got sick of trying to grow it out, so I got it cut when I got my colour redone. It's now somewhere between Daniel Jackson's length in Season 4 and Sam Carter's hair when she's not trying to get into Jack's pants. So the difference is noticable.

So anyway, this dropkick at work asked what, quite frankly, was a stupid question. "Did you get your hair cut?" Now listen, you could tell it was cut; there was no way it wasn't cut. Instead of going "Oh. You got your hair cut." He had to ask to make sure. So I did what anyone would do.

I looked him straight in the eye.
I looked like I was thinking really deeply about it.
And then I said. "Nup. Why?"

You should have seen the look on his face. Priceless. He couldn't back out of it either. He knew he'd asked a stupid question. I knew he had asked a stupid question. He deserved it.

That's like the time someone saw me writing. Right handers always ask "Oh! Are you left handed?" like it's this rare talent. I am left handed - why else would I be using my left hand to write? Once, I answered the "Are you left handed?" question with "No. I'm just practising in the event I have a stroke and lose the ability to use my right side."

I'm a cruel and evil person to those who ask stupid questions.