Coffee Rhetoric: Bearded Lady

August 04, 2007

Bearded Lady

I hate body hair. I've been an avid shaver since the age of 12 and use depilatories and creams (provided they're safe, hypoallergenic, and wont skin me alive). I don't get hair on my legs but I shave the imaginary ones I know are there anyway. The only visible hair I acknowledge is the thick, coarse mass on my head. Luckily I'm not a woman who requires electrolysis, monthly bikini waxes, and who needs to shave her chin. I think my complex about body hair developed during my middle-school years.
Whilst taking a pre-pool shower before the required swim class I resented in the most violent of ways- (we had to get suited up and then rinse off, in a communal shower- any body lotions perfuming our persons, before diving in the pool, so as not to get residue in the water)- I happened to look to my immediate left at one of the more popular girls in my class, rinsing off and talking animatedly to her friends while they waited to walk with her to the swimming pool. She wasn't addressing me at all. She didn't even look in my direction but that didn't stop me from looking in hers, to listen to whatever superficial rant she was rambling on about. I hate myself terribly because I also happened to look down. In the Netherlands, I noticed she had a thick, black, coarse Chia Pet growing out the sides of her green one-piece. The beast couldn't be contained, and so it snaked it's way from each side... mocking me. I was horrified. I averted my eyes quickly and scurried to the pool. Needless to say, that experience scarred me. I rushed home right after school, found a men's Bic razor in the medicine cabinet, and shaved my delicates, arm pits, legs, you name it, I shaved it off. I shaved it off and never looked back. I shaved with passion unbridled.
Fortunately I have minimal amounts of body hair and shave the ones that sprout up a couple times a week. As far liking men with massive amounts of body hair and unruly beards, I prefer long, unkempt beards and hairy backs. That being said, I met a good male friend of mine for a drink a few days ago (his treat). My dear friend. Attractive, well dressed, with a keen fashion sense. My friend of the nice light brown skin (a result of Italy intermingling with Africa). I feel confident relaying this story because I know the likelihood of him reading it is... well... not very likely as he's not technologically savvy nor does he have access to the internet and rarely ever web surfs (knocking on wood). My dear, attractive sweet friend. Whom I've known for a spell and who I always suspected was closeted behind thick winter sweaters, coats, button downs, shoes, and summer apparel. Tucked waaaay in the back behind the "in case I run out of laundry" wear. His choice. His demons to slay. I stand behind him regardless. I just would like to see him happy. I'm a huge supporter of his (prospective) brethren. They make my heart dance and sing. I understand why they choose the rainbow as their symbol. I'm a self-described hag and think it's important for people to be themselves and not hide what they can't help being. I keep my mouth shut regarding such matters, because it's not my place to dictate to someone when they should be themselves. Anyway, my dear friend seemed rather flirty and touchy-feely... leaving me flummoxed. He threw me off even further by relaying an erotic dream he had about me. Despite my confusion, I responded the way any mature adult would. ... "EWWWWWWW!!!!! UUUUGHHHHH!!!"
"You weren't saying that in the dream." He said, coyly.
I clasped his hand in one of mine and used my other to pat his, platonically and friendlike and then quickly changed the subject. I turn 30 in a matter of days. Lately, I've been singing the praises of singledom. I enjoy my solitude more and more and appreciate it for what it is. That being said, I'm not dead nor am I desperate. I don't want to live out the rest of my single days playing a beard. It's not a lifestyle I envisioned for myself and it'd make for a pretty inactive and boring sex life, no? That charade would also be murder on my drain pipes and a bitch to sweep up, as it'd grow wilder and more bedraggled... becoming evermore out of control and hard to manage, that not even Nair or Epilady would be able to contain it.