If u ever wondered why (some) women have been seen to carry a razor in their bags

Behind the blue curtain she stood. Fine silk curtain it was and all she could do was bite her left hand’s thumb nail.

“Holy shit!”, a rush of sweat suddenly covered her front-head and chills went down her spine as her face probably went  white.

“Have I forgotten to shave it?”, her hand quickly going down and under the skirt, as she still held some hope. But no luck this time, it was all still there.

“Idiot! What are you going to do now?” she thought, her hand still feeling somewhere under the skirt, as if to make sure what she felt was real. But the evidence was there and quite a fluffy evidence it was, as she remarked in awe.  “It’s almost time. I could maybe still make it to the bathroom. Yeah, right and how are you going to pull that, you’ve got nothing in your bag!!! You total idiot! Really, what were you thinking?!”

In the bathroom there were two other ladies waiting so she had to wait before a cabin was free. But when the much-awaited moment came,  she rushed in,  hung her bag on the door handle, stripped off her skirt and whatever else was in the way, sat on the toilet cap and … well…

“Shit, this hurts”, she thought in despair as involuntary tears were running down her cheeks and onto the toilet floor, where they remained unnoticed, awaiting for the first chlorine mop to restore them to nature’s water cycle and thus  set them at peace with themselves and the world around them.

When she went out of the cabin, besides the fore-mentioned tears, on the floor one could also see what one would assimilate to bits of little black pilus. But all was forgotten now, as  while she washed her hands in the sink, she felt this tremendous relief she had rarely experienced before. So by the time she was drying her hands, a smile of pride and self-satisfaction was largely visible on her face.

The date went well, one would suppose, so the only thing one is left wondering about is “What ever happened to the little black pilus?!” Well, one can only assume the next person to have entered that particular toilet cabin – precisely myself – could have imagined a whole lot of things when seeing it. I made up the part about the tears though.

Oh, and before I forget, I got this great song this morning, thought I’d share it.