It is one of the rules of how things are, this one. One of those things, like how if I’m in a gastropub and decide I don’t want chips, I will end up snaffling chips anyway from whoever is sitting opposite me, or how it is that the one day you want to get a taxi from the station is the one day that taxis are nowhere to be seen, or how you always run out of milk and teabags just when someone is coming round and likely to want a cuppa.
This one, though, is even worse, somehow. And it goes like this. The larger, greyer, girlier or more insanely patterned my knickers, the more likely it is that I’ll get sex. The smaller, lacier, blacker and more tightfitting my knickers, the less likely it is that anyone ever sees them. Ditto the fact that the more hair I have removed, the less likely it is I’ll be getting any; and I’m more or less bound to end up flat on my back with my legs in the air on days when I haven’t shaved in about a year and I’m wearing one of my old school soft-cup bras and huge pink girl boxers with no functioning elastic. Curses.
Although I wonder if that is just coincidence and Murphy’s law, or whether it’s the case that on days when you’re conscious that sex is a possibility and therefore you’ve put on your nicest underwear over your newly hairless legs, you’re more self-conscious and overly aware of yourself and your body, and maybe that’s why it doesn’t end up happening because, on a subconscious level, it’s written all over your face that you really, really want to take this one home and rip his shirt off and do goodness knows what else but actually, bother taht, you also want to meet his mother and take him home for tea, and please like me and please want me naked because I’m going to die old and alone and… and anyone with that much subconsciously written on their face is probably not an attractive bet.
As for me, though, I’m going to bed wearing my most spinstery, fluffy pyjamas (over tights and a thermal vest), clutching my teddybear and hoping not to die of hypothermia in the night. And that, roughly, is just how I want it. For now.