Death to the Caterpillars!!!

The other day, I get off the train and a stranger with a clipboard walks up to me and says, "What do you notice most about me?" "Excuse me?" I reply. She reiterates her question and asks, "When you look at me, what do you notice most about my appearance?" I quickly scan her from head to toe, but find her to be very non-descript (maybe intentionally on her part), so I utter, "Hmmm... That's a strange question..." She starts jotting something down on her clipboard, as I think to myself, "I wonder what she's writing down?" "What am I *supposed* to say?" "What kind of question is this?" and finally, "Who the hell are you?!?" I give her a second look and can only come up with three possible answers... (1) "Your glasses." (which look like they belong on a waitress in a 1950's diner... you know, the ones who smack bubblegum all day long), (2) "Your hair." (which has been dyed blond, is short and semi-spiky), and (3) "You're short." (she's only about 5 feet tall). I eliminate option 3 as just plain rude and decide to go with option 2. "Your hair," I say. Again, she scribbles on her clipboard. Wondering where this is all leading, I'm interested in the next question and growing increasingly intrigued. Well guess what? There is no next question. That's it. Makes no sense. I know. Welcome to the club. I ask her what the deal is and she tells me she's with the church of Scientology and is conducting a survey. Huh??? One question? Great survey, lady... I should've went with option 3.

Anyway, the reason for that terrible but true story is that I want to ask you the same thing with respect to the picture above. What do you notice most about this person's appearance? There is no *right* answer, but there is one I'm sure most of you will focus upon. Don't read on until you've decided on an answer.

As most of you know, this is a picture of one of my closest friends. People at his day job refer to him as "Darren." People in his social circle refer to him as "Dirty D." People at his night job refer to him as the "Gay Asian Cowboy" (click here to see why). Anyway, I bet your answer was either (1) his ear (which, as I've stated before, looks like an elf's ear), (2) his nose (which is very large), or (3) his eyebrows (which look like two fuzzy black caterpillars crawling over his eyes).

Look at them! They're huge fuzzy creatures!

Well, with all the recent metrosexual behavior Darren has been engaging in lately -- wearing colored contacts and excessive use of skin care products, to name a few -- I predicted that his next step would be to get his hairy eyebrows waxed... and I was right.



He coordinated with Ingrid for the death of the caterpillars and on the morning of the appointment, gave them each a final brewski.



As Ingrid, Darren and I made arrangements through e-mail exchanges, Ingrid mentioned that Darren could come over in the morning and enjoy a mimosa. Darren replied, "Mimosas for the caterpillars... How fitting." When I read this, I broke out laughing. Funniest thing ever. Even more hilarious was that Darren didn't know that a mimosa is not only a drink, but also a plant and made the joke inadvertently. As planned, the caterpillars had their final meal...



On the way there, Darren and his sister spoke on the phone and said a prayer for the caterpillars. I think he even shed a tear...



But once we arrived, Darren was ready to go! USA! USA!



This place looks more like an art gallery than a salon. There's Ingrid escorting Darren to the execution chamber. DEAD CATERPILLAR WALKING!



Once inside, the executioner led him to the table. Resigned to their fate, Darren and his caterpillars offered little resistance. Goodbye caterpillar...



And with that, one caterpillar had been executed (please note the elf ear clearly shown in the picture above). For his very first waxing, Darren decided not to go overboard and look like those guys with the thin, manicured eyebrows. Clearly a good idea not to give the folks at his night job another reason to call him by his nickname.



Knowing it was his first time, Sandy was gentle and made sure the caterpillars felt very little pain. Being the Dirty D that he is, when I later asked him if it hurt, he said "All I remember is boobs over my face..."



There's enough hair there to be a pair of eyebrows. R.I.P., caterpillars.



One step closer to metrosexuality. Good job, Metro D.