Monday, January 16, 2012

Liars, Damned Liars, and Aestheticians

If you Google the definition of disinhibition, you'll find that it's generally assumed to occur as the result of alcohol or drug consumption, or maybe even brain damage.

For me, I find that there's something about paying someone to see me naked that I find utterly disinhibiting. In general I'm super shy and self-conscious, but the moment I have to shell out for a service that necessitates my being nude, all bets are off. Among other items.

I'm not a "naturist". I'm not an exhibitionist. In fact, just the thought of wearing a swim suit makes me vomit on my slippers a little (whoops, there I go again). But dammit if I'm paying someone to see me naked, I am going to get my money's worth. 

And really, it works for me: for instance, my massage therapist couldn't do her excellent, bone-crushing work if I wasn't totally buck. Neither could the endless stream of aestheticians it seems I encounter in my pursuit of that mythical day when "it doesn't grow back as much". (*cough, cough - bullshit*) And, as taxpayers, I'm sure you'll appreciate that I not only strive to get the most out of my money, but I also work hard to get the most out of yours - as my G.P., gyno, dermatologist and dentist will (happily?) attest to.

Man, I shoulda been in politics.

So ladies, if you're feeling a little shy about leaving the lights on - y'know, maybe you're a smidge saggier or baggier than you used to be, I know how it goes - just slip the old man a fiver before hitting the sack tonight. (Er, maybe a ten spot if you're more than a smidge.) He might feel a wee bit whorish at first, but men get over that sort of thing in short order and trust me: if you're working the Disinhibition Zone without even being hammered or brain damaged, everyone wins.

1 comment:

  1. That's why there's a piggy bank on my nightstand?