New to A Lady Reveals Nothing? You've missed SO MUCH. Not to worry. Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite. Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day. Enjoy! This story first appeared on November 7, 2008:
One of my obsessions in life is blackheads. I have often been accused of not paying attention to someone speaking because I am actually staring at their blackheads and dreaming of extracting them. That accusation is fair and correct. I spend about 15 minutes in the mirror every morning and every night pinching every single thing on my face and pinch the backs of my arms whenever I am wearing short sleeves.
So it was a natural career choice at seventeen for me to go into massage. I had lots of older clients who had awesome monster blackheads on their backs and using massage oil, I could usually ease the stuff out without anybody being the wiser. This is disgusting and embarrassing to admit, but I would sometimes put the awesome extractions on my little massage shelf so I could look at them later.
ICK I am so gross!
Anyway, one day I had a client who just so happened to be the Chief of the Fort Frances Canada tribe of Native Americans. He had a huge rock lump volcano crusty blackhead on his right shoulder. I massaged it and massaged it even though it was nowhere near a muscle. I must have worked on it for quite some time, because pretty soon the Chief goes, "What? Do I have a blackhead?"
I was mortified. No one had ever busted me before this! I recoiled in horror, unable to muster anything in response. Finally I stammered...
"What's a blackhead?"
I want to say well played but, er...
P.S. You are not alone. My wife enjoys this sort of thing too. I think she's a little giddy trying to help my teen son's with his zit issues right now. It's a zit smorgasbord. (Now there's a sentence I've never written before.)
That sentence is part of my vernacular.
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