Some important things to establish before I tell this story: I have PTSD from having an abusive parent and am extremely hypersensitive to being touched without permission. I also dress in alt fashion and have a purple mohawk and stretched earlobes, as well as a septum piercing. If you're into goth subculture, I dress very deathrock inspired.

I was at the nail salon today to get my nails filled. It's hot as balls here in California so I had my hair up in a ponytail, so my mohawk (which I don't usually wear spiked up as it's grown too long) was very noticeable. My nail girl was running behind, so I had to wait a bit. Not a problem. It's air conditioned, and I had my headphones, so I sat on the couch by the window and listened to some music.

Not five minutes later, a mombie comes in with her tiny demon. She was too young to be in a nail salon, clearly. Anyway, I tried to look as creepy and foreboding as possible to get them to sit on the other, empty couch, but nope. Mombie and her demon had to sit next to me. Fine. I turn up my music and deliberately do not engage them.

Things were fine for a couple minutes. The kid was staring at me (which, like, my mother taught me not to stare?), but I'm used to kids staring at me, so whatever. Then, out of fucking nowhere, while I'm reading my twitter feed and not paying attention, the kid reaches up and sticks her tiny demon finger through my fucking earlobe tunnel.

I shit. I nearly went through the goddamn roof. My PTSD triggered immediately and I nearly smacked the kid's hand. I jerked my head away and turned to look at them, giving the mombie the most "what the actual fuck control your overgrown fetus" look I can manage. And then. And then.

She laughs. The mombie laughs. "Oh, she was just curious. Isn't she cute?"

So I tell her, "I have a severe anxiety disorder. I could've accidentally hurt your kid. If y'all had asked me I would have no problem letting her check out my ears."

She basically tells me to unclench. "Oh, she's only twenty-eight months-" so she's fucking two and a half use real numbers it's a human not a fuckin' cheese "- she didn't mean any harm." Not like it matters. My anxiety disorder doesn't care about intent, but whatever.

Oh well. It's clearly pointless to argue with her so I drop it, and just go back to my phone. Not five seconds later, the kid is touching the shaved side of my head with its disgusting sticky paw. It doesn't startle me this time, but now I'm pissed, because this is the second time your kid has violated my personal space.

"Listen," I tell her, "can you at least tell your kid to not touch strangers without their permission? Your kid could get hurt if she touches the wrong person or a pet that isn't well trained." I'm actually, genuinely concerned, because as much as I hate kids I'm not tryna see them get mauled by untrained dogs.

God, you'd think I told her and her cumstain to go deep throat a chainsaw. "But she's just a BAAAYYBEEEE, and you'll understand when you HAVE YOUR OWN, she was just CUUUURIOUS, why do you have to be so MEEEEEEEAN"

I basically roll my eyes, give her my best passive aggressive "go fuck yourself" grin, and put my headphones back on.

Like, I get it. Your kid probably hasn't seen someone who looks like me in real life before. But I'm not an exhibit in a fucking zoo and you don't get to let your kid treat me like a science experiment. CHRIST. Anyway. I just needed to vent about this.

On the bright side, my nail girl refused to let mombie get a pedicure because the salon isn't a safe place for a toddler and the mombie wouldn't be able to control her kid while getting her toes done. Mombie was outraged. It was a tiny little bit of revenge porn.