Nose Hair Horror

So, I was putting on my makeup yesterday (I love to start out a story like this…) and something wasn’t quite right. It was like seeing the car you sold last week out of the corner of your eye on a busy street. Somebody else is driving and they aren’t holding the wheel quite right. Then it is gone and you’re left to wonder if you sent that car into a world it just can’t understand.

I was readying myself to do two live shots for my hometown station and one for the folks up in Cincinnati. I generally don’t apply the powder so liberally, but I always get nervous about shiny spots on my forehead when I’m on the tube in Ohio.

Then I saw it.

Now, at this point you’re probably thinking…the poor sap is growing hair out of his nostrils. He’s on his way to another “I’m getting old” rant. Well, in reality, my nose has been sprouting nostril bushes for years. It’s a Willis thing and there ain’t much I can do about it.

No, this was a horror show of a whole new variety.

Sticking out out of the top of my nose (right around where it gets bulbous) was a big, black bear of a hair. No amount of Clinique Stay Beige #3 could cover it up. I actually threw the powder puff to the side and rubbed the compact on the end of ma nez. Nothing. Just a big black bear of a hair. I yanked at it with my fingertips. I tried to comb it back with my hair brush. No good.

I don’t know what this means.

I try to keep all of my hair in a trimmed fashion. I think tidy hair is a sign you respect your body. I’m actually developing quite a sickness with the need to be…well, un-hairy. And now, my nose is not only sprouting Fraggles from my nose holes, but it’s also playing Chia Pet with my face.

I’ve never been a really hairy guy. My buddy Gary grew a beard in the fifth grade. Me, I was still pleading with my privates to grow some underbrush just so I wouldn’t look…um…bald…in gym. Even today, my level of chest hair can only be described as “a dusting.”

I fear the worst.

There’s this family somewhere in Central America that has somewhere in the neighborhood of four kids who all look like werewolves. It’s some odd genetic thing that forces them to join the circus or shave their face daily. I didn’t even know it was possible for regular genetically-boring humanoids like me to grow hair on the top of their nose. And here I am putting on makeup to try to cover it up.

Maybe the worst part is, I’m going to have to result to using tweezers to pull the thing out.

My wife is going to walk in on me in the bathroom and I’m going to be plucking my nose.

Anyone ever tried to use Nair on their face?