Journalist & Author Katy Regan regales us with an #UNCOOL tale of how one man destroyed a perfectly sunny day.
I have always been proud of my status as ‘non-high-maintenance-chick’. I am a five secs in the shower and out, kind of girl; I do my mascara on the toilet; I think grey roots make me look arty and intellectual; in a French writer kind of way .
(Also, I can’t afford ninety quid every month). However, even I have standards, even I have limits about what is ‘COOL’ and ‘UNCOOL’ and what happened to me last week, my friends, was deeply UNCOOL, and made me wonder for possibly the first time in my life: am I taking ‘low-maintenance’ too far? Because when a perfect stranger feels the need to tell you that you have a grey whisker coming out of your chin and then proceeds to pluck it, you do have to wonder…..
I was in the local pub of all places, on the night of this UNCOOL crime, trying to have a quiet game of pool with my eight-year old son. I had no make-up on to speak of; but then my local (in rural Hertfordshire) is a relaxed kind of place: the sort of place builders frequent for their lunchtime pint and people with mangy dogs might come on occasions, nursing a pint of ale and asking for a water bowl for said dog, outside. It was around 6pm, so the sun was low in the sky and streaming through the window of the room, where my son and I had just begun our game of pool. There were a couple of guys in there with us and perhaps the sun was especially falling on my face, illuminating me, making me look beautiful and fecund in a country bumpkin kind of way? Or maybe NOT…..Because what happened next, is that a TOTAL STRANGER (one of the men in the room) came up to me and said: “I’m sorry but I just really have to tell you that you have a grey whisker pointing of your chin.”
“Is that so?” I said, not particularly embarrassed (it takes a lot) more surprised at how deeply uncool this was; at the same time as wondering if this was some strange chat-up line. You know, overly intimate and what-not.
“Yes, can I pluck it?” he said.
“Yes PLUCK it” he said.
Readers, I then let him. More because I was shocked and had had half a Fosters more than anything else. Anyway, then we had a rather bizarre conversation about how there are two types of people in this world: the ones who would tell a stranger they had something hanging out of their nose / spinach in their teeth / ketchup on their chin and those who wouldn’t….
I agreed. I did. I nodded and smiled in recognition. However, I would also like to put it to that stranger, right here, right now, that there may be a third group of people in this world: those who would tell a stranger she had not just a whisker, but a grey whisker coming out of her chin. And that there may only be one person in that particular group and that that person, has to be him.
Has this happened to you? Did you respond as calmly as Katy?