I was having lunch with a friend, and she brought up the topic of her laser hair-removal treatments. Now, I became interested in this immediately as this is the second time in about two weeks the topic has come up. The first time I discussed hair removal was with a friend of mine on Twitter. We were talking about getting revenge on whoever the “schmuck of the week” was in our lives, and I said, “I can’t beat him up because that would mean I would have to go to jail, and they don’t let you shave your legs in prison, and I couldn’t cope with that.”
To which she responded, “Get laser treatments first and then you do not have to worry about it!”
Now, let me emphasize that getting laser treatments did not make the difference between me doing bodily harm to someone or not—I don’t think so anyway. To be honest, the guy was an idiot on a major scale, so he did deserve some kind of comeuppance. Anyway, the Twitter convo resulted in me getting a lot—and I mean a lot—of direct messages from men who wanted to weigh in on the whole hair-removal topic.
This is how I break down the messages: 39 percent of the men that responded said that no hair on women was extremely sexy; 52 percent of men said that they didn’t mind some hair on women, and a weird 9 percent of men liked very hairy women which made me wonder if they had a Bigfoot fetish thing going on.
Are these numbers accurate? Absolutely not. I don’t do statistics. In fact, I only got a C+ in statistics in college and that is because I work-studied for the professors who taught Statistics and Logic. They were office mates and best friends and at the end of the semester when I took Statistics, the one professor said to me, “I am giving you a C because you brightened up our dull office, but the C is predicated on the fact that you never do statistics in any professional capacity.” Now, most people would be insulted by this, but me, I saw an opportunity. So, I said, in my best negotiation voice, “Give me a C+, and I promise your office mate that I will never practice logic either.”
“Done!” they both said aloud (and rather quickly I might add).
I probably should have shot for the B, but to be honest, it was not deserved. However, I am proud to say that I have kept my word. The science of statistics and the art of logic are nowhere to be found in my daily life.
Anyway, I have really digressed. Back to the lasers. My Twitter friend said she went for about six treatments, eight weeks apart, to remove leg, underarm, and bikini-area hair. At the end of the scheduled treatments she was hair-free—everywhere! So, my mind started to wonder if this was a good option for me. I swim about three times a week, and I have to admit that shaving is a pain figuratively, while waxing is a pain literally. So, laser hair removal became one of those subjects that I stuck into my mental notebook with the promise that I would investigate later on.
So, yesterday I was at the Macaroni Grill scarfing down my whole-wheat vegetable pasta medley when my friend started to talk about her laser treatments that she was getting at her ob-gyn’s office. Not worrying that the entire male Twitter population would be jumping in on this conversation, I went for details.
“Do you have gray hair?” my friend asked.
“No, I haven’t gone gray yet,” I responded showing her the roots on my head.
“Not there!” she snapped back.
It took a moment, but then the lightbulb turned on.
“Oh … oh! Down there? I didn’t know it went gray. I must have missed the lecture on the changing colors of pubic hair in my catholic school health class. Well, no then.”
