The nurse asked me, “How long will this take to grow back?”

She was shaving patches of hair off my body so she could attach EKG electrodes during my annual physical: three on the chest and one on each calf. How long to grow back? No idea —but certainly not in time for vacation on the beach.

Thanks to some bizarre brew of genetic happenstance, I am uncommonly hairy. No, I’m not real happy about this turn of fate, but what the hell? You play the hand you’re dealt. Oh sure, I’ve considered manscaping, but I don’t even like getting the hair on my head cut. Fortunately, Ann says she likes me just the way I am. If not for that -or if I were single or something- I’d be off to be waxed, trimmed, lasered…whatever it would take.

Last year on the beach a nearby family made no secret of their interest in my dog-like appearance. They gawked at me from their blanket, gesturing in my direction and chattering in amazement. Since they were speaking a foreign language I can’t give you a direct translation, but the inflection said, “Oh! Look at the hairy man!” They were obviously from a place where body hair is not the norm. My son Alex says, “Maybe they worship hairy people where they come from. Or monkeys.”

Anyway, the chest hair has mostly recovered from being sheared, but I still have two bare patches on my legs. And next time I go to the doctor I’ll be sure to do it in November.

2 thoughts on “Patchy

  1. Manscaping is brutal. A few snips here, a few there, even it up wit a few more snips – before you know it, you’re looking like a freaking porn star.

    Not a good look when in the mens locker room.

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