A young woman mocked my age at the airport, then spent our entire flight throwing her long hair into my face and food. She thought a 73-year-old woman couldn’t fight back. Good thing I’d made one very unusual purchase at duty-free.

her hair.

The cloud reached me a moment later. I coughed.

“Excuse me, dear. That’s quite a strong perfume.”

“It’s French.”“I don’t think the French intended us to taste it.”

The cashier made a noise like a kettle.

“Guys, apparently my perfume is offending people now,” she told her screen.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. It hit me squarely across the face.

“Careful, sweetheart. Your hair just hit me.”

“Then don’t stand so close.”

“I’m standing in line.”

“Personal space is still a thing.”

I stepped back.