You enter an elevator about to ride up 40+ floors while you are digging in your purse. You spot your tweezers as the elevators doors close.
You remember the annoying hair on your chin you've been meaning to pluck. You notice you are alone in the elevator, so what the hell, you give it a quick tug.
You've only made it to the tenth floor and you think, could I risk it? "Well no, I wouldn't usually, but I did spot a stray in the chest region while showering this morning. If I had remembered the chin hair then, well then I would have taken care of this other one also, but I didn't so......"
Again, what the hell, you've got some time. You pull out the shirt and the undergarment and get to plucking, and it turns out there's a couple to take of.
The doors open and you are deep into the chest hair plucking and oblivious to the group of men waiting to enter. They are waiting to enter, but can't move for fear of humiliating all involved.
You suddenly snap your head up and realize the crisis immediately. You start explaining how you had a sliver from your son's toy apparently lodged in your sweater. It somehow made its way through your bra and was scratching you on the left breast.
It most likely got there when he was jumping on the splintered wooden toys while you were folding laundry. "Oh yes, he piled the broken toys on the clothes and then started jumping. I must have forgotten to check everything for debris." You know the insanity of the statement, but you're pretty sure they bought it. You hope, but at least you'll likely never see them again.
And then you ride up the elevator with at least one of them every day for a week.
Never happened to you? Yeah, no, me neither.
Well extweeze me, I have to go get some serious workouts in, since I'll be taking the stairs to work.
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