Good things happen, of course. Today, for example, while I was walking a dog, a woman pulled her car over, rolled down her window, and yelled out, I like your hair!
Isn’t that a lovely thing?
Now, we could get into the power dynamics of this bizarro world in which a Black woman feels entitled to pull her car over and comment on the hair of a white guy walking a dog, but chances are she wasn’t thinking about any of that. Maybe all her tests came back negative, or maybe she was dick drunk from getting boned on her lunch break, or maybe I looked like someone she used to know. Regardless, she took the time – which she (and you, and I) only has (have) so much of – to stop, roll down her window (even though it was cold and windy), and tell me she liked my hair.