Whenever Paul takes the car out for an extended period, he does reasonable things, like check the air pressure and oil He also makes sure there is enough gas.
Me? I make sure that my tweezers are in the glove compartment, right where they belong. This, I've learned, is crucial.
If you are reading this, and you are a natural blond or redhead, I want you to know two things:
1) I hate you, just a little.
2) I only hate you because you don't know the horrors of Unnecessary Dark Hairs (henceforth referred to as UDH).
It started around my late twenties. I started to see hair sprouting from odd places. Dark hairs. Occasionally, curly. And no, this is not an oversharing tale of puberty, a la, "Are you there God? It's me, Nancy." The hairs I'm referring to were GROWING OUT OF MY FACE.
I know! The shame! The horror! I noticed my first UDH on a long road trip. Paul was driving, and I had read my magazines. We were talked out. There was nothing to do but pull down the mirror visor and check myself out.
As I scanned my face, I saw it. It was coarse, it was black, and it was growing right out of my chin. Proud and defiant, the offending hair was a black lighthouse in my sea of white flesh. I gasped, and wondered:
1) How long had I walked around with this Billy Goat scruff?
2) And, oh dear God, how many people saw it?
3) And WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS to TELL ME THESE THINGS?
I attempted to pull it out with my fingertips, but this action only caused it to curl in a horrifying fashion. I now had a curly dark hair growing out of my face. There was only one solution: subterfuge.
When we arrived at our destination, I spent the remainder of the evening with my hand on my chin, looking like Rodin's The Thinker. This looked stupid, and resulted in a zit on my chin the next day. You know, next to the big black hair. Throughout the night, I kept thinking, "I am growing a beard, I am growing a beard, OMG I am growing a beard."
Lest you be concerned that this indicates a possible disorder, let me assure you that I've been checked out. I take my thyroid medicine and am in good health. Yet, despite my clean bill, the occasional errant hair still makes its ungodly appearance.
Thus, I have learned to always travel with tweezers. I've learned that despite diligent checking in the safety and privacy of my bathroom, these UDHs are both sneaky and tenacious. I must be forever vigilant, and catch them in well-lit places, where they are unable to hide. Places like...cars.
So, if you are driving around Southern Maryland, and you pull up next to a green Subuaru, do not be surprised to see me scanning my chin in the mirror, tweezers at the ready. I do not pluck and drive, but, if the light is red, it's game time. My tweezers and I will defeat the UDHs.
And please, as a friend, do your civic duty and inform me if a UDH has reared its ugly head. I will do the same for you, and we will make this world a better-groomed place. One red light at a time.