I’ve been hairy since birth. My mom told me I was born with a full rug of hair not only on my head but on my back, too. This has sort of haunted me in life. Thankfully, I was given a nice full head of black hair which sort of cancelled out my hairy gorilla body. Most people with thick black hair have hairy bodies… that is a fact the majority recognize. ‘Beautiful thick hair? Probably has a furry back, too…’
Fast forward 15 years. Childbirth does something corrupt to your body’s wiring and sends an erroneous message to grow hair at rapid speed – in all the wrong places. Sadly, the hair on my head is much thinner and everywhere else, well…quite the opposite.
I’m pale as a marshmallow with black hair like licorice. This equals ‘five o’clock shadow’ on every shaved body part which would be super if I was a dude with a masculinity problem.
My grandmother made my mother take me to get my upper lip waxed at the prime age of eleven. This just further drives my hairy point. I’m a mess.
I am now an avid lip and eyebrow threader and I stay up-to-date on my grooming routines so my husband won’t take-off to the guestroom because my facial hair started competing with his. Shit, if my own grandmother couldn’t stand looking at my ‘stach when I was eleven, I cant imagine my husband sticking around if I started sporting facial hair. I’ve made great effort to stay up-to-date on my grooming rituals which is both costly and time consuming.
Naturally, the place that does the best job at taming my beastly body is located in a very busy mall. I drive my orangutan self to this mall every two weeks to take care of business.
Each time I visit my ‘threading friends’, they tell me my eyebrows ‘lack shape, beauty, and consistency,’ and point out each time how my left eyebrow completely differs from the right.
They say stuff like ‘Wow, your eyebrows are so uneven! Do you over-pluck? You should get them tattooed to your face..’ when my defenseless ass is parked in the chair-o-pain.
My response is the same each time: ‘No thanks. I’ve seen enough mugshots on television to see how that works out.’
Every two weeks I hear about my crooked, not properly grown-in eyebrows as ‘Nadia the Terrible’ makes her way through each ‘crooked and uneven’ eyebrow with her thread that I’m certain is manufactured in Hell.
And then on to my upper lip. She gasps, ‘Oh, MY GAWWWDD! There’s more hair on your lip than both of your eyebrows combined!’
‘Great news! Thanks for informing me of this, and also for announcing it at the top of your voice in this very zen-like salon for all to hear. I know I’m hairy. Why the fuck do you think I’m here!?’
Alright, being honest, I did not say that last part. I did however laugh. I laughed really hard. That’s what you do when the lady hunched over your face breathing the remnants of her lunch on your forehead tells you, very loudly, you are pretty much a lost hairy anomaly.
I would stop going to this salon and find another that doesn’t give me so many
compliments insults but the salon offers this great ‘Buy 10 get one free’ punch-card and I’m a really big sucker for a deal. Seeing I’m a patron every two weeks, I accumulate a lot of free torture-threaded experiences. So, I just deal with the insults and then pay them after they’re through abusing me physically with the thread and verbally with their words.
It’s either that or learning how to perfect the mustache as Tom Selleck did during his Magnum P.I. days. However, I worry with my inconsistent eyebrows that my mustache could possibly follow suit. No one likes a sparse mustache….especially not on a woman.