It could happen. (It really couldn’t, don’t take me seriously I’m a mad man I tells you, a mad man- see I just referred to myself as a man.)
There has been all this talk over the web about a woman’s right to have hairy legs. I, for one, think the idea is appalling, and I’ll tell you why. In the UK alone, 50% of women die daily from tweezing out hairs from their legs one by one. Only 75% are permanently damaged by explosions in their hair removal cream. A spokesperson from the top shaving company, Hairs’a’lot had this to say….
“In, like, our current climate there is this ongoing fear of looking attractive. If a woman is unable to use hair equipment properly it is their fault, and not the government. So some people need to shut the hell up ,and just get rid of the hair already.”
There is another reason a woman should never have hairy legs.
Just like in every romance novel there will be the moment.
You know the one there you are on a train (going to an interview at a top publishing company, as these are the only jobs women in romance novels go for.) You’ll be reading a pink book with the title Dreams Are Substitutes For A Love Life. Suddenly, you sense a presence. Someone is standing over you.
“Is anyone sitting here?” he’ll ask and point to the seat opposite you.
You look up and in front of you is *insert your own fantasy of an attractive person here* Oh he is dishy, you know this because you’ve never thought of the word ‘dishy’ in your life. In fact, did your mum just creep into your brain? More importantly, what does he want? You were at a crucial point in the story. Janey was just about to follow her heart and fly to New York. At the last moment, when she had given up all hope she sees, Kyle. You were just at the moment when she is in his arms. Forgetting the guy, you continue to read.
“I can’t stay for you,” she says. “I have plans, dreams that I hope to fulfil.”
“I could never match up to that. My only hope is that….”
Attractive but annoying man- “Sorry this seat…?”
You look up and say, “Just a minute!” You then finish reading the sentence.
“My only hope is that my amazingly massive member will sway your heart and rock your world.”
“Yes,” Janey says. “I will marry you.”
“Well actually,” Kyle tries to speak.
“Yes and there’ll be a cake, and a wedding and….”
You bash the book down on the table and see that, yes, he is still there. You wave your hand indicating he can sit down. He sits down with his briefcase.
“Any good?” he asks.
“What a pile of bollocks,” you say. “Everyone knows love doesn’t exist.”
Amused he picks up the book. “What makes you think that?”
“In our lifetime there are only three romantic gestures, one, the Facebook poke, two, someone liking your Facebook status and three, a double vodka and coke and a happy meal.”
“So what you’re saying is, that frustrated by love you have decided to stay away from it? You have thrown yourself into your career, meanwhile all of those around you are either pregnant or getting married. Let me guess, is your best friend engaged?”
“How did you….?”
“You sound like a romance novel heroine. Alas, dear one. You see this is not a romance novel. It’s real life, meaning that instead of persuading you that romance and love exists, well, I’ll cut to the chase. You’re attractive.”
“As am I. I wouldn’t call it destiny that I’m horny and you just happen to be on this train. I wouldn’t call it fate, that you’re sexually starved and…”
“Err excuse me….”
“Quick when was the last time you had sex? I’m timing you.”
You take a few minutes to calculate. When did your maths get so bad? (Oh right, the genre you are now living in.) How do you multiply again and what is Pi exactly? You meet his gaze. Damn him.
“Exactly,” he continues. “So for all these reasons and more, I think we should shag.”
“But this is a romance novel…..you’re meant to be aloof and because of this alluring. You’re meant to have seen the harsh realities of life but under that tough exterior want to jump into the great beyond. You’re supposed to love me.”
“No, wrong type of romance novel, love. In this romance novel I believe in monogamy, just not with you…yet. So we shag and then when you get to London, (the only city a romance novel is based in) I just happen to be your boss. It would never happen the other way around, you understand. Angered at the way I treated you, (I won’t be calling after this) you date the right guy. Smart, handsome and you will never love him because of it. I’ll propose to someone but my ache for you will remain. Long story short, we get married.”
“If that all happens….well why do you think I will sleep with you now? You’re obviously a jerk.”
“That’s why you love me. Also this….”
He reaches under the table, you get a little worried but also excited. He takes out a…Mcdonalds box and…a bottle of vodka.
“Hey genius, you forgot the coke?”
“Did I, *insert your name* did I?”
Out of the briefcase he takes….a bottle of coke. Sure it’s Asda’s own but damn he knows you. It’s almost as if he has Mary Poppins bag or something. Dick Van Dyke sure was funny in that film…ha ha ha Dick.
“So, let’s start this love train,” he says.
He takes your hand and you make your way to the toilet when…you remember. You didn’t shave your legs…or anything else.
This is why I must stress to all girls in every country. You must remove all hair. If you don’t then this little romantic fantasy won’t happen to you. Your love story will never come true.
Think about it, you know it makes sense.
(Fine I should be asleep but some things are just too stupid not to write down, wait….)