Frida Hublo

Reader Monty has a theory on why I might have 11 teeny little zits on my nose: "Spider eggs?" Yeesh, Monty. Like I'm not crazy enough already.

To make myself feel better, I thought I might get my eyebrows threaded at lunch. I go to this place a few blocks away from my office, and they're pretty nice there. One time, when I hadn't been going there long, they talked me into getting my mustache done as well. Bear in mine that I have about 12 teeny little golden hairs on my lip, but they way they talked about it, it could have been a handlebar mustache, complete with waxed tips. Shame-as-upsell. Vogue has nothing on these ladies.

Anyway, I fell for it once, and then spent a week with this freakish bare upper lip that was way more obvious than any 12 golden hairs could be, so I decided never to do that again. Sensing this, the ladies didn't suggest it.

Today, however, there was a new threader who hadn't gotten the memo. After she did my eyebrows, she said, "Anything else?"

And I said, "No thanks."

"No?"

"No. Thanks."

And then she - swear to God - ran her finger over my lip, as if stroking my long, luxurious mustache hairs and said: "NOT EVEN THIS?"

"No," I said. "Leave the mustache. I LIKE IT."

Take that, thready-lady.