At 35,000 Feet, a Hair-Whipping Seatmate Got a Lesson She Didn’t See Coming

I was seventy-three, flying across the country to attend my granddaughter’s graduation, when a curtain of long blonde hair extensions suddenly whipped over the seat in front of me and slapped across my face. I pushed the strands away from my coffee, then asked, as politely as I could manage, if the woman in front of me might keep her hair on her own side… Continue Reading ⬇️

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