I had several redheaded boyfriends over my dating lifetime. I always thought they were very handsome, and if memory serves they were not unpopular with the ladies.
I well remember the first time I shook hands with anybody. It was my grandfather, and I was about five years old. We (Mom, Dad, my baby sister and I) had lived away for some years, and I had never met the old gent. So, on a trip to Grandpa’s city when we met for the first time, my Dad instructed me to offer my hand to Grandpa, shake his, and say something like, “How do you do, Grandpa?” This I did, and Grandpa shook, and our first meeting went off without a hitch. Grandpa was a great guy, and I still happily remember the times we had subsequently, although they were cut too short by his death a few years later.
But Dad’s model stuck, and when meeting his and Mom’s adult friends, I would offer my hand and say something like, “How do you do?” Mom and Dad were proud, but imagine my consternation (and their frustration) when my outstretched hand was met with, “Hiya, Slugger!” (or something similarly inane) and a tousle of the head. No shake. I dealt with it, and Mom and Dad commiserated, and may have told their friends later about the incident, but I sure didn’t like it at the time.
Meh - a friend and former co-worker was sitting in her office (I was there for something - probably gossip, so I witnessed this) and a wack-a-loon woman who worked on the floor stopped by and started chatting. My friend has fake boobs. WAL started on about how she wanted fake boobs. She then reached out and GRABBED MY FRIEND’S BOOB. Wanted to see how it felt, apparently.
We were taken aback. The best was when she applied for a job in my friend’s department and was shocked that she didn’t get the job.
I don’t know, while both incidents are crazy and unbelievable, I’d have to say the “eyelash-grabber” tops the “boob-grabber” (assuming the boob grab was committed over the shirt). The eye lash grab is effin nuts. :eek:
Nah - they’re just rubbing the cue ball for good luck;) kinda like you do for a Buddha belly.
Boob grab is worse. I let friends touch my face, or even acquaintances, for example, if I had a fallen eyelash about to go into my eye. I wouldn’t let anyone touch my breasts, even over my clothes.
Well, being a man, I can’t really argue. 
You probably should wear them under your clothes most of the time - it’s too much of a temptation for us blokes.
**jamiemcgarry ** brought up the possibility that the person may have gone under the girl’s shirt.
I disagree with the “slightly.” Groping strangers without their permission is horrifyingly, “bring Miss Manners her fainting couch,” “write a letter of apology in advance” rude. The fact that it’s common does not make it less so. I mean this is a person who’s just decided that their impulses trump your right to not have them pawing at you, just because they feel like it. I mean, how entitled can you be?
It’s even worse with babies and dogs, since they can’t or aren’t allowed to defend themselves. At least adult people can flee, defend themselves, or tell the intruder to get their mitts off.
I confess I occasionally have the urge to poke a strange baby to provoke a chuckle, but I don’t recall ever giving in to that urge. I don’t know where that comes from and I never had it as a young person.
However I will occasionally pet a strange dog (though never a working dog) when it is obvious that the dog is receptive. If I think about it, though, I will ask first.
I have red hair and as a child people always wanted to pat my head and this made me spitting mad. I wasn’t shy a bit and “NO! Don’t touch my hiar!” was very much in my vocabulary. It’s amazing how some adults will get ever so offended at learning it is not their god-given right to touch an unknown child.
People are ridiculous. I’m a redhead and when I wear my hair down and it catches the sunlight strangers can’t seem to help themselves from commenting on it or touching it.
It isn’t limited to hair though. I get people trying to touch my wedding ring and I had one memorable asshole who stuck his face in my cleavage when I was wearing a tank top. A lot of it is comments as opposed to touching. When we lived in the Apartment of Doom that was kept so hot you could raise tropical plants in there during the winter I walked to the corner without a jacket to get some milk and a woman freaked out on me for being out in the winter without a jacket. I wanted to explain to her that my apartment was way too hot and I was enjoying a brief bit of cold weather but I didn’t want to interact with the crazy so I just ignored it.
It’s one of those things which are… accepted, but not desired. It happens, but it happens because there are rude assholes everywhere, including Italy. Was it a woman? I find older women are the ones most likely to claim that they “like children” when what they like is pinching kids, patting kids, smooshing kids and generally terrorizing kids. And because they’re older women, if you make a fuss they make a bigger one.
Middlebro’s brown hair gets lighter and coppery in the summer. Back when he was in his teens (c. 1980) people would ask “why do you dye your hair?”, nowadays they ask “what brand dye do you use?” There have been times he hasn’t been able to convince the questioner that it’s natural until he summoned a relative to swear that it is.
Littlebro used to be one of those cherubic kids… large blonde curls, huge blue eyes, chubby (he still had a baby’s hand dimples at age 3). The first few times that a woman patted, pinched or squeezed him while saying “he’s so pretty, he looks like a girl!” he was furious - eventually he discovered that batting his lashes and smiling won him cookies. So he’d smile, bat his lashes, get his cookie, and as soon as the woman turned her back, stick his tongue at her.
When I showed up at work one day, after having unexpectedly cut off all my hair (Well, I expected it, what did I think those clippers would do.) a female coworker who I didn’t even know that well had to stop herself from reaching up and touching my bald head. She got her arm about halfway to my head before she realized the inappropriateness and tried to act nonchalant.
Not quite the same thing, but not worth putting in its own thread. Earlier this week the CEO of the company I work for (a VERY small company, so we all work close together and are fairly sociable with each other) grabbed my wheelchair just for fun to stop me as I was wheeling down the hall. I came very close to swearing at a CEO for the first time in my life. I had the presence of mind to just rather loudly tell him “DON’T DO THAT!!”. I’m sure Jamie can commiserate! 
Daughter has beautiful, thick, wavy dark hair so she is getting used to people commenting on it and occasionally touching it, although she is polite about correcting it.
I am guilty of rubbing the closely shaved heads and back of the neck/head area of many military guys - usually only ones I know though. Feels awesome.
When I was bald from chemo, I don’t remember anyone touching my bald head, but when the new curly hair was coming in, everyone wanted to rub the fuzzy. I tried to be patient, since most of them had been very supportive during the bad stuff, but…really?
Amen to that.
I’m shocked - seriously, honestly shocked - at the amount of people who do NOT understand basic dog safety, and do not teach their children about it either. My parents raised Schipperkes, and taught my brother and I ALWAYS to ask the owner before petting a dog, never put our face near the dog until it was the DOG’S idea, and never EVER pet a dog off a leash.
You would be amazed (or maybe not!) how many people think it’s just fine to let their small children RUN pell-mell at my pitbull, throw their arms around her neck and shriek in her ear. Even when she’s CLEARLY flipping out trying to escape them. Without asking me a thing! That’s SO dangerous.
My dog has never bitten anyone, but I don’t have children and she doesn’t have much contact with children, so she’s mildly uncomfortable with them. She likes children who approach her quietly, hold out a hand, then stroke her sides and head gently. THEN she’s the wiggliest, happiest dog ever. But when a strange, noisy little person FLINGS themselves on her, she has no idea what to do.
And you know damn well that if she DID snap at one of these insanely badly-raised interlopers, the headlines would scream about the unprovoked mauling by yet another pit bull, without mentioning how the dog was assaulted by a child whose parents never gave them BASIC dog-approach skills.
So.. yeah.
Personally, I suffer from keloid scarring. Even a moderately serious cat scratch humps up a giant wad of scar tissue. My arms and shoulders are covered in them. I prefer to wear tank tops whenever the weather permits, short sleeves when tanks aren’t appropriate. The number of people who find it just fine to walk up to me, grab my arm and poke at/ask about my scars is truly amazing.
I had reddish auburn hair as a child and everyone touched me. It’s rude and weird and creepy. I am not a piece of meat!