hair you go.

Characters:

Feminine Me

Masculine Me

Setting:

My living room in my apartment

FM: So, like, when are you gonna shave those legs of yours?

MM: When I feel like it.

FM: But, um, don’t you feel, like, gross? I mean, you look like a dude. It’s summer. You can’t wear skirts and dresses with legs like that.

MM: I’m aware.

FM: Well?

MM: As you can see, I’m wearing pants. Nobody’s eyes are offended.

FM: Yeah, but…

MM: Don’t you have a Cosmopolitan to read or something?

FM: {blinks}

MM: You can read, can’t you?

FM: Of course I can read, jerk. I hold two degrees in English, remember?

MM: You never shut up about them.

FM: Look, I’m just trying to get you to take more of an interest in your appearance. You have very nice features. You should show them off.

MM: I’m tired. Shaving my legs is a major event. I mean, I’ve got two of them, for heaven’s sake. TWO. That’s a lot of work.

FM: I have two legs, too. You don’t see me complaining about them.

MM: Do you have any idea of the amount of effort I have to make in order to shave these bad boys? {Lets out a sigh of exasperation.} I mean, I have to sit down on the floor of the shower and exfoliate each leg, which takes forever, and then I have to rinse all that crap off, which means I have to STAND UP, and then I have to get back down on the bathtub floor and lather up each leg, one at a time, while I oh-so-carefully shave three-quarters of my body.

FM: {Tries to do the math.}

MM: I have very long legs. Remember, I’m nearly 6’ tall. That’s a lot of leg. Multiply that by two, and--

FM: {Crinkles nose, bites lip while trying to calculate.}

MM: Oh, never mind.

FM: I’m not good at math. You know this.

MM: It’s just a lot of work. Shaving, that is.

FM: Look, you’re not an exception. All of us women have to do it.

MM: Not all of us. Some of us choose not to. We prefer things au natural.

FM: And how does the Ross-a-tron feel about au natural, may I ask?

MM: {Silent. Looks away sheepishly.}

FM: That’s what I thought. Remember the other day when you’d just woken up from a nap, and your pant leg was all wonky? Your leg was showing. The Ross-a-tron sat down on the bed to say hi, and when he went to straighten out your pant leg for you, he saw your, um, au natural-ness. And he recoiled in horror.

MM: No, he didn’t!

FM: Yes, he did.

MM: No, he didn’t! He just, um, carefully worked around the hair on my leg while he straightened out my pants.

FM: He recoiled.

MM: Alright, alright! Fine. I have hairy legs and I hate to shave. I'm gross and disgusting and unfeminine and I NEED HELP WITH MY SHAVING ROUTINE!

FM: And you’re going to scar the Ross-a-tron for life if you don’t do something about it. C’mon. He deserves some smooth and sexy legs on you.

MM: {grumbles}

FM: What if you go out and buy a new skirt. Something really girly and lovely. Something that you’d totally feel like a bombshell wearing. Would that inspire you to actually shave your legs?

MM: {Makes a pout.} Maybe.

FM: Do you want me to help you?

MM: Eeeew, no! I can shave my own legs!

FM: No, you idiot. Not help you shave. Do you want me to help you pick out a skirt?

MM: Oh. {Let’s out a sigh of relief.} Yeah, sure.

FM: Good. Hand me my Cosmo.

MM: {rolls eyes}