Dear Chin Hair: Consider This An Eviction Notice
Love, your landlord.
Reshetnikov_art / Shutterstock Dear Chin Hair,
Where the hell did you come from? I certainly didn’t invite you nor did I tell you to take up residence on my chin.
Granted, I’ve noticed you other random places but figured you were a one-time visitor and wouldn’t return because the accommodations are poor and the Yelp reviews are less than glowing.
But now you’ve decided to visit my face? Not cool. Not cool at all.
At first I thought it was a mistake; a result of poor lighting in my Volkswagon. I noticed you in the rearview mirror and suspected you were just a scratch on the mirror.
But no. If only...
I’ve only recently tried to evict you, but you’ve proven a formidable opponent.
You’re strong and stubborn and coarse and much firmer than I would have expected.
Forgive me for being so stern. I realize you’d like a nice place to call home, but that home can’t be my chin. It just can’t.
Yes. I realize you’re threatening to migrate other places if I evict you, but I won’t be bullied.
You won’t be allowed to stay. Not at all, and certainly not by the hair on my chinny chin chin. (And yes, I see both the humor and the irony in that last sentence.)
You have to go because no matter what, you’re going to set up shop somewhere else on my face.
You’re quite popular and your friends will want to party at your place, which will be on my face.
They’ll leave some of their friends behind who will join you at your permanent residence and will continue to be the obnoxious neighbor who pops up at inopportune times, like at a client dinner.
Not on my watch. Or, as it stands, not on my chin.
The world is your oyster, but you decided to land there, on the one place I don't want you to be.
Where did you even come from?
You’re a stealthy one. Sneaking up on me one day only to discover you’d already moved in and furnished the place is not the most pleasant way to introduce yourself.
Perhaps moving in gradually would have helped our relationship.
Of course, had you slowly moved in I probably would have caught you sooner and evicted you, so perhaps this strategy was best.
Either way, I need you to go.
I don’t care where you go but you can’t stay here... or anywhere on my face or neck. I’ve got enough of your friends renting apartments there already.
So, goodbye chin hair. I won’t miss you and I’m not sorry to see you go.
Please go bother some other woman — preferably a cute one in her early 20s.
Love,
Your landlord, Lisa
Lisa Newlin is a blogger whose work has been featured on Elite Daily, Bustle, Blunt Moms, Erma Bombeck, In The Powder Room, Humor Outcasts, and others.