Um, Ew. Just EW.
A Seattle-bound flight landed instead in Pittsburgh to unload a handcuffed pervert who fondled the hair of- and groped a fellow passenger as she tried to sleep. I'm betting she was faking the "trying to sleep" thing. It's time for hair-touching to be taken as the seriously borderline behavior it truly is. Besides, some women go bananas when you touch their hair. At least I have heard this is true. No one I know, of course.
One of my all-time favorite stories in the news was a girl in England who had the compulsion to eat hair, or trichophagia. Hair and fingernails are pure protein and can not be digested. Apparently the smooth surface of hair does not allow it to be moved through the digestive tract through normal peristalsis, thus a hairball develops.
Anyway, this girl in England had been a hair eater since early childhood, but had been in therapy and her family thought she was cured. She then decided to go to school to become a beautician. One day she began having profound stomach cramps, and within a very short time, she was dead. She had about a 5 pound ball of hair in her stomach-- not all her own stuff.
Isn't it amazing her family let her go to hair school, knowing her compulsion? Isn't that like sending an alcoholic to a bartending academy or a pyromaniac to work in a match factory? Asking for trouble.
Life can be so much stranger than anything you can make up.
Speaking of made-up, I'm enjoying the courtship of Captain Vimes and Lady wossit (swamp-dragon lady), if that is indeed what's happening. Pratchett seems to have keenly observed how humans get on, and he looks most kindly upon the process. Sweet.