I Found A Chin Hair So Aggressive, I Felt Like I Needed To Serve It An Eviction Notice
peopleimages.com | Canva Dear Chin Hair,
Where the heck did you come from? I certainly didn’t invite you, nor did I tell you to take up residence on my chin. Granted, I’ve noticed you in other random places, but I figured you were a one-time visitor and wouldn’t return because the accommodations are poor and the Yelp reviews are less than glowing.
But now you’ve decided to visit my face? Not cool. Not cool at all. At first, I thought it was a mistake; a result of poor lighting in my Volkswagen. I noticed you in the rearview mirror and suspected you were just a scratch on the mirror. But no.
I’ve only recently tried to evict you, dear chin hair, but you’ve proven a formidable opponent
Nataliya Vaitkevich / Pexels
You’re strong and stubborn and coarse and much firmer than I would have expected. Forgive me for being so stern. I realize you’d like a nice place to call home, but that home can’t be my chin. It just can’t.
Yes. I realize you’re threatening to migrate to other places if I evict you, but I won’t be bullied by you, chin hair. You won’t be allowed to stay. Not at all, and certainly not by the hair on my chinny chin chin. (And yes, I see both the humor and the irony in that last sentence.)
You simply have to go because no matter what, you’re going to set up shop somewhere else on my face. You’re quite popular, and your friends will want to party at your place, which will be on my face.
They’ll leave some of their friends behind who will join you at your permanent residence and will continue to be the obnoxious neighbor who pops up at inopportune times, like at a client dinner or just as I've pulled into a parking spot for a corporate presentation. Not on my watch — or, as it stands, not on my chin.
The world is your oyster, chain hair, and yet of all the places to travel, you landed in the one place I don't want you
Where did you even come from? You’re a stealthy one. Sneaking up on me one day, the harsh car sunlight exposing you in the reflection of my rearview mirror, only to discover you’d already moved in and furnished the place (or shall we say my face?) Not the most pleasant way to introduce yourself.
Perhaps moving in gradually would have helped our relationship. Of course, had you slowly moved in, I probably would have caught you sooner and evicted you pronto by the stealth operative of my car console tweezers, so perhaps this strategy was best.
Either way, you gotta go. I don’t care where you go, but you can’t stay here — or anywhere on my face or neck for that matter. I’ve got enough of your friends living rent-free there already.
Goodbye, chin hair — I won’t miss you, and I’m not sorry to see you go
Please go bother some other woman — preferably a cute one in her early 20s.
Love,
Your landlord, Lisa
Lisa Newlin is a blogger whose work has been featured on Elite Daily, Bustle, Blunt Moms, Erma Bombeck, In The Powder Room, Humor Outcasts, and others.
