Voltaire... or Hair?

The other day I drove down to York to cover an event at the local library. Basically it was a reading group for middle school girls, lead by four high school girls, sponsored by Mainely Girls. So you know. Reading, girl power, etc.

I walked in to the library and approached the front desk as instructed by my editor.

"Hi, I'm looking for the after-school reading group?" I asked.

"Oh! Are you one of the high school girls?" the librarian asked.

"Oh, um... no," I stuttered. "I'm a reporter."

The librarian was clearly embarrassed and assured me that I would appreciate comments like that in a few years. To be truthful, I appreciate comments like that right now. But I had to wonder if it was my post-deli work appearance that lead her to believe I had come from the high school, and not my oh-so-youthful glow.

Turns out it was my hair.

When I got down to where the group was meeting I realized that like me, all of the high school girls had their hair pulled into messy side ponytails.

Good thing I just worked out a deal where I babysit in exchange for haircuts. It seems it may be time for a trim.