Keeping up with the “confessions” theme, I have a dirty little secret.
I am the hairiest Dutch woman in the world.
Here’s my senior picture to prove my point. Ok just kidding. However, my beard could probably give this chick a run for her money. And speaking of money, it’s a shame that “freak shows” are considered outdated, because I could have an amazing career opportunity.
I don’t know what made me so hairy; I like to think that it is a side-effect of taking the birth control shot depo-provera for years.
Anyways, I used to always wax my eyebrows and chin every other week. I had a favorite place that I would go to, and the techs knew me by name. Heck, I even invited one of them to my wedding, that’s how tight we are. Seriously, don’t under-estimate the bonding powers of someone plucking your chin hairs.
Whenever I would go to a different waxing place (and let’s face it, 99% of them were Vietnamese nail salons. I’m not being a jerky racist, I’m stating a fact) they would always say the same thing:
“Ohhh, you so haiwy. When you wax last?”
They would always give me the same look of shock when I would respond “two weeks ago.” Then I swear I would see dollar signs in their eyes.
Being called hairy by a petite Asian on a bi-weekly basis never really affected me, though. I was jaded.
Flash forward to 2009. I moved to a city in the Bay Area that is populated mostly with Indians. (Like, from India. I’m not being a jerk and calling “Native Americans” by the term “Indian.” I know the difference.)
I went on yelp to find a waxing place, and the only thing that kept appearing over and over were threading salons.
Note: That is not me. If it was, it would show a white chick whose eyes are watering and hands have a death grip on the chair because, depending on where you go and what “time of the month” you go, that crap hurts.
So I went to the threading salon, and sat down for my first ever eyebrow thread. After telling the gorgeous Indian lady the area that I wanted to become hair-free, I tilt my head back and she says, “Wow, you’re really hairy.”
I don’t know what stung worse, having your hair follicles pulled out, or being called “really hairy” by an Indian lady whose profession is threading other hairy Indian (and occasionally Persian) ladies.
Do you have an embarrassing secret?