Since blogs are largely about vanity, I’d now like to discuss something very very important. Its the thing on my chin. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but its large. Very large. In fact when I recently went to New York and saw “Grey Gardens”, I’m fairly certain that Christine Ebersole, who plays Edie in the show was momentarily thrown off track when she saw me….and the thing on my chin, and grimaced and said to herself “What the hell is that? I should really give that girl the name of my dermatologist.”
Because I’m not sure what it is, but it has caused my mother to say, at least 36 times during various breakfasts, dinners and other social event, “Witty, I think you have some dirt on your chin.”
Now the first time or two, I momentarily thought I might possibly have something on my chin, you know, like a stray dab of chocolate or a smear of lipstick, but after like the 12th or 15th time of her suggesting that her 49 year old daughter might not be properly washing her chin and then going out in public, it sorta lost its charm.
“No mother, my chin is not dirty. I have a freckle.”
A freckle on steroid!
And then it started happening with other people as well, like at my art show in June. I was sitting with some of my art buddies and the woman who just gave me those frames last week, leaned over wordlessly and tried to wipe something off my chin. You know…the freckle the size of Dick Cheney’s head.
I actually had no reason to be embarrassed, other than the fact that I have this freakishly large thing growing on my chin, but then when she realized it wasn’t wiping off…you know because it was an actual part of my skin, she leaned back in her chair embarrassed and didn’t say anything, like “Sorry I tried to wipe that freakishly large thing off your chin. I thought it was dirt.”
Did I mention I hate it? I absolutely hate it. And its been growing for about two years. I imagine its probably some kind of minor skin cancer, although its not itchy or lumpy or crusty. Its just dark and round and people in Kansas can see it.
So today I went to get a chin wax. Its one of the few “luxury” things I do for myself. $7 of pure luxury! That and I get to have a Filipino cause me even more pain than they already have. Double bonus!!! Woo! Anyways, so none of the skinny little inheritance stealers were available, so I got the owner of the shop, a Filipino man about 50. It wasn’t at my usual place, so I was a little discombobulated.
I told him I wanted a chin wax. As usual they always try to upsell you.
You need mustache wax, yes?
So I laid down in their dirty little chair and he looks down at my face and asks if I want that spot on my chin removed. I warily tell it can’t be removed (you freakin’ idiot). He then said, “You rich?” Me: “Are you kidding? No.” Him: “You been marked by Him. You be rich soon. …You buy lottery tickets?” Me: Yes, all the time, but I never win.” Him: “That mark on your chin say you win. You marked by Him. You be rich!” Me: “Oh good”
Although I was really thinking, you’re still not getting a tip ya damn shyster, especially since you left behind all the short hairs and then tried to convince me that that was how it was really done.
Note to self: Buy some lottery tickets tomorrow.