My First Time

I don’t remember how old I was my first time, but I do recall that it wasn’t the sublime experience I thought it was going to be. And now there are so many products on the market that are supposed to aid in the process, I can’t keep my head from spinning!

I hate to admit it, but I’ve tried them all. From those foul smelling depilatories, to the strips that rip the hair from the roots (not to mention half of your skin), to the most recent product that claims to be a painless, hair removing brulee; I’ve been a sucker every time.

If I saved the money I’ve spent on hair removal products over the years, I would be living in my dream house with the swimming pool. Every time I fall for one of these new improved products, I end up kicking myself because I should know better. It must be the promise of never having to shave again that makes me want to believe these products will work, only to end up looking like a pretzel in the bathtub with strips stuck to my legs because I’m too afraid to pull the next one off. Or because the brulee is so sticky I can’t pull my fingers away from my armpits.

There was a time about fifteen years ago when I spent an ungodly amount of money on a device that actually pulls the hair out by the root, and presto – you’re hair free for months! At the time I bought this hair removal apparatus, I wasn’t dating anyone and I wasn’t working, so I had a lot of time on my hands. It took me exactly one week to remove the hair from just one leg.

My sister and I went into the store together to check out this item before one of us actually spent money to buy it. The lady who worked in the store explained that she couldn’t let us buy it without trying it first, because too many people had complained about the pain and wanted to return the item. In other words, if I bought it, I was stuck with it, because the store was no longer giving anyone money back. Before I could agree or disagree to this tryout, the woman was ripping hair out of a spot on my forearm, and my first reaction was to lash out at her. I refrained, but it didn’t stop me from buying the hair removal system.

What was I thinking? I never used the system again after that first time, taking two complete weeks to finish both legs from the knee down. I ended up giving it to a friend of mine years later, who said she loved the one she had but it was broken, and believe it or not, the stores weren’t selling them anymore. I only had one question for my friend – Mary, why?

I’m not saying these products don’t work. I’m saying they don’t work as well, or in the capacity as they are promised to.

There have been days where I’ve actually believed my life would be perfect if I didn’t have to worry about the hair on my legs. I find myself flipping through the pages of magazines and wonder how all these models and actresses take care of their hair removal. Do they suffer indescribable pain to have someone rip their hair out by the roots? Maybe they do.

Now there are the new products that claim to be made out of such natural ingredients that you can eat them. Why would I want to eat something that’s supposed to be used as a hair removal product? There’s even a new sugaring type product I’ve seen on a late night infomercial that the creator named after one of her daughters. I know I couldn’t sleep, but the name sounded more to me like a male body part.

No matter which hair removal system you decide to use, you always have to let your hair grow to a certain length before the product can be successful. And that means not wearing anything that would require your legs or underarms to show, and constantly living with the fear that your deodorant isn’t working. I have a friend who once told me that she hadn’t shaved in a while, and when she got into bed with her husband, he asked if she was wearing pants.

After all the straying I’ve done, I always come back to my razor. I don’t love it, but I like it. It’s dependable. It’s a pretty color. It’s inexpensive. And it does exactly what it promises to do. No gimmicks, no fancy name, no expensive price tag, and the manufacturer doesn’t entice me to try and eat it. It even has a moisture strip for my protection.

I’ll never forget the first razor my mom bought me – it was a horrifying lime green color. I’m sure I still have it somewhere; hidden behind the hair removal creams, wax strips, and the edible brulee. I suppose if I’m truly desperate during the next diet craze, I can always crack open that bottle of brulee. There can’t be too many calories in there, can there?

© Kathleen Strelow 2005

Anthrax with a Twist

On April 30, 2005, my husband Phil and I ventured downtown to the House of Blues in Chicago. We were more than excited to be heading to this show, considering the last time Anthrax was in town I was in bed with a deadly case of bronchitis and couldn’t go. Even more exciting was the fact that it was the original lineup, which hadn’t been together in about twelve years. Not to mention, it was only one of a few shows they were playing in the United States, and we were at the first sold out night of two in Chicago.

We were lucky enough to snag a parking garage that only charged us six dollars, and we only had to walk a few blocks to the venue. We are always apprehensive about going into the city for a show, since we always end up getting lost. This has happened more times than I’d like to admit.

As we stood in line waiting to get into the House of Blues, we listened to people around us talking. The guy standing behind me was talking about an old Anthrax t-shirt he used to have but couldn’t find, and it turned out I was wearing the exact shirt he had been missing. Outside, I had my leather jacket on, so he couldn’t see that I was wearing it. But inside the building, with my jacket off, he was giving me strange looks as if I had stolen it from him or something. It was quite humorous.

We were standing in a spot where people obviously thought the stairs were to get down to the main level by the stage. We were not. Keep in mind that this was a sold out show, and it was body next to body next to body in the place. I am not a tall person, and wouldn’t you know it, the tallest guy in the place stands in front of me. It seems to happen at every show I go to, oddly enough. For the record, I’m five feet tall, so it doesn’t take a whole lot to be taller than I am.

As the night goes on and we’re still waiting for Anthrax to take the stage, I am getting more frustrated by the minute as people are shoving me out of the way to get to what they think are the stairs. As I said before, they were not the stairs to get to the main level by the stage. This does not stop people from shoving me out of the way to get to the magic stairs, nor does it stop them from shoving me out of the way to get back when they realize their mistake. There was, however, one very polite, long-haired gentleman who kept going back and forth for drinks, but he always tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Excuse me.”

I was so frustrated during Anthrax’s first set that I finally turned to Phil and told him that the next person who shoved me out of the way was going to get an elbow to the groin. No sooner had the words left my lips, I was being shoved. My elbow lurched backward and I made contact, only to look up and find a giant drunk guy, who probably didn’t even know I had touched him. And yes, he shoved me again when he had to make his way back.

Not long after Giant Guy made his way back, I was shoved again. Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I am a pretty laid back person, and don’t get riled very easily. It takes a lot to get me angry, and this was the last straw. With both hands and as much strength as I could muster, I pushed the guy square in the back. He flew forward, and the only thing that stopped him were the bodies in front of him. A split-second later I turned to see Brian Posehn, the actor, standing next to me. A security guard was leading him through the crowd, and I pointed him out to Phil.

The guy who had been standing next to me the entire night turns to his friend and says, “Dude! Wait until so-and-so finds out Keanu Reeves is here!”

Keanu Reeves? My brain was scrambling to make a connection. Why would Keanu Reeves be at the Anthrax show? Then again, why was Brian Posehn at the Anthrax show? Keanu Reeves was in one of Anthrax’s last music videos, and it turns out, was in Chicago filming a new movie. It didn’t take long to realize that Keanu Reeves was the guy I shoved in the back and sent flying across the House of Blues.

I have only this to say. He shoved me first.

© Kathleen Strelow 2005