What’s happened to me before is I’ve been offered drugs because I have long hair. And it’s not like they warn you about in middle school where someone offers you drugs for peer pressure’s sake. No sir. No one’s offering me drugs out of the goodness of their heart. These aren’t the share types – they’re the scary types. And they just want money.

It always happens to me when I’m down in Waikiki, and my theory is that it’s because Waikiki is rich people territory, and all the dealers are hoping to land some good sales. I don’t exactly look rich (see any of the facebook pics of me in cutoff shorts in every pic), but somehow they always pick me out anyway. My friend Brennan Divett recently blogged about how he always gets mistakenly pegged as a druggie because of his hair, and I’m about 95% sure this is why I keep getting all the offers. My hair these days is looking pretty long and pretty haggard. But I think that’s a stupid reason to offer me drugs.

By the way, I’ve never done a drug in my life. I hear they’re bad for you. Anyway, back to the story…

So yesterday I was in Waikiki picking up K from her job at Lush, when it happened again. Now Lush is kind of a magnet for hippies (and druggies), because it’s all about hand made, vegetarian soaps and crap like that. Well, I was in there waiting for K and this dude comes up to me and asks me something real quite-like. I don’t really understand what he’s trying to tell me until he shows me the bag of weed in his hand. The rest of the conversation went as follows:

Me: Oh no, sorry, man. I’m clean.

Drug Dealer: Oh. Haha. You sure you don’t smoke the herb?

Me: Yeah man, sorry. Why do you ask?

DD: Well you look like it.

Me: Umm…. nope! Never have.

DD: How bout some oxies? Or some babies? You want some babies? Eh? Eh?

At this point I burst out laughing for some reason. The guy took this as a good sign and decided to set a date for the drop:

DD: All right man! So just meet me here at the same time on Wednesday and I’ll bring the… you know… good stuff!

Me: Oh, no wait! I don’t do whatever those things are either.

DD: Whatever man I know you do!

Me: No, seriously, I don’t even know what those are. Isn’t Oxy like that stuff you use in the laundry?

DD: Oh c’mon man! I gotta make a living somehow.

Me: Well sorry. Good luck though.

The guy then proceeded to tell me how his grandmother on the Big Island grows the stuff and he has to sell it. Which is pretty messed up and I think was actually a bunch of crap, cuz he looked just like an extreme stoner.

So anyway, that’s the first time I’ve been offered hard drugs because of my hair. If that isn’t profiling, I don’t know what is. I just hope cops don’t assume the same thing.

And no, Mom, I’m not going to cut my hair.

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