Videos, Black Sweaters & Pubic Hair

(She’s gonna die when she sees this!!)

There it was. Right smack dab in the front of my fuzzy, black wool sweater, sitting there smug and defiant like it was doin’ me a favor.

A long, silver, pubic hair!

“Oh fuck!” is the first thing that went through my mind as I picked it off with a tweezer. How did that get so far out of it’s jurisdiction? Then, Really? Silver? That can’t be mine! Followed closely by, Well, if it’s not mine then whose is it? and gagging sounds. 

That’s when the thought of it being my own rogue, white, pubic hair became more palatable to me than having it be some stranger’s who was hitching a ride. Still, the fact that it was silver was like a double tap to the forehead.

Completely unnecessary since I had died the moment I laid eyes on it.

Immediately, I started to reverse engineer my day. Where had I been? Who’d seen me wearing this hirsutal brooch and why had nobody told me? I’m positive I would have told a woman she was wearing a silver pubic hair on her sweater…oh, maybe not. 

Never mind.

Anyway, that’s when the cold sweats began. Followed by a wave of terror so profound I was sure I was going to finally hurl up the vomit that had been collecting in my throat.

You see, I had just video’d myself. And I’d downloaded that video onto an application for my dream job. 

I felt dizzy. The ground was spinning. What the fuck were they suppose to think of me besides the fact that the carpet matched the drapes and I’d been too lazy to run one of those sticky roller things over my sweater before I sat there smiling like an idiot, selling myself for a position where pubic hair need not apply?

Once I regained consciousness, I was reminded of the fact that  I’d only downloaded the application — I hadn’t hit SEND. 

I CAN SAVE MYSELF!  I screamed. 

All I had to do was look back at the video to see if the pubic hair was upstaging me and then make another five hundred, one.

That’s when this whole thing took a turn for the worst, or the better, depending on how you view life. 

I clicked on the video link in the application only to find that it hadn’t been formatted properly. It just sent me back into my files. So I went back into the video file only to NOT find it anywhere.

Maybe the universe had done me a favor. Maybe, yet once again, it had saved me from humiliating myself.

I could shoot another video of myself but since I’d lost that great, “golden hour” lighting —it would have to wait until the next day. Because…lighting.

I stood there scratching my head. The whole thing didn’t make sense. I knew I’d save the video…or had I? I called in the tech cavalry, otherwise known as my niece and nephew, and as I tried to explain the whole clusterfuck, (leaving out the pubic hair part so we can all make eye contact the next time we see each other) I suddenly remembered where I’d gone wrong. 

I found the video and viewed it again, this time making sure to look for the silver culprit.

Thankfully, since I’d pulled in pretty tight on my face—the little fella was out of camera range. Lord have mercy, I could exhale! I promptly refiled it feeling grateful that I’d found the formatting snafu before it was too late.

Later, as if my day hadn’t been ego busting enough, I took a hand mirror and checked my lady garden for any stray gray. Upon not finding any, I threw my black wool sweater into the fire for collecting pubic hair in the first place and causing me such grief. I had to make an example of it to my other fifty black wool sweaters.  I expect better from my clothes. 

As I took off my bra (stay with me) the dents and bruising reminded that I’d had a mammogram earlier that day and gotten dressed and undressed in the same little dressing room (actually calling it a dressing room is an insult to dressing room everywhere. This was more like a very narrow and shallow box, think gym locker, where the little pink curtain could cover your tits or your ass but not both at the same time) —that dozens of women had used before me. 

Mystery solved! That’s where I’d picked up the silver hitchhiker!! 

Do you think the day will ever come when I can just get a mamo or do a video without having to notify the Health Department?
Jeez.

Carry on,
xox