“It’s time for your lice check,” a woman who goes by “Ms. K” whispers directly into my ear as she starts running her fingers into my scalp and through each strand of hair. I’m in a dark room, Eastern flute music playing in the background as I sit across from my partner who’s also having his hair caressed by a stranger. We close our eyes so we don’t burst out laughing.
“OK kiddos, nobody wants to start their first day of school,” coos “Ms. A,” my partner’s lice checker, in a…








