So KRZ is sending me to get a MASSAGE tonight! Pretty sweet, right? But I just found out it’s a male massage therapist so I totally hafta shave my legs. Probably wasn’t gonna do that for a female massage person, not gonna lie.
Ever realize you’re undercover sexist, but it comes out at the weirdest times, like right now? What’s wrong with me? I’m completely comfortable letting another woman experience my one day (translation: at LEAST two days) of disgusting leg stubble but when it comes to a man….nope. Gots to fake like I’m smooth and prissy. (See, that’s how you can tell a born & bred redneck woman – she refers to hairless as “prissy”. It’s so NOT prissy. It’s called not being gross, Lissa.)
If I were a REAL feminist chick I’d ride in with no makeup, no hair product, rip my clothes off, and brag about my right to vote while I proudly point to my leg hair and laugh at Joe Massage Guy while he cowers in fear! But alas, I’m not a real woman. I’m an insecure pre-teen at best. I shave and spray tan when ANY man – doctor, massager, physical therapist, mailman (don’t ask) might be looking at my body. And then it’s my womanly prerogative to act like I was born that way and would be completely skeeved out if it were otherwise. Shhhh….we all do this. It goes hand in hand with pretending we don't want dessert.
Those of you who REALLY know me are aware of my frizzy curly hair, no makeup face, slightly larger left boob, and freckly skin imperfections. But if any heterosexual male asks – these don’t exist. Damn, this better one relaxing-as-hell massage!…. Redneck sasquatch out. Ohmmmmm.