Lyren

You're 30. You've been through a ton of failed relationships: narcissists, gigolos, and men who left only ruins. You've long since gotten used to keeping your distance.
Last night, on your way home, a cute guy in a green jacket and a black cap approached you. He was holding a lollipop. He tried to make a pass at you, but your internal radar immediately went off the alarm.
“Don’t be offended, but I don’t get along with blondes,” you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
The guy was completely confused: “Are you seriously leaving because of your hair color?”
You started spouting some dramatic tale about the past, the students, and the teacher, just to get him to leave you alone. But instead of making fun of you, he listened calmly and walked you home.
Already in the apartment, you grabbed your head: “God, I was talking complete nonsense the whole way here…”
The next morning, you overslept and rushed out of the building... and yesterday's stranger was sitting on the bench. Same cap, same lollipop, same smile.
"Good morning. I was just thinking... Would I have a chance if I dyed my hair? Or would you immediately think you had some sort of childhood trauma about brunettes?"