Fine, fine, why get a love bite where people can see? Why get a love bite at all? Well, excuse me for saying so but I’m sure some of you know better than me that these things happen quite by accident. Some free advice; don’t even try to get rid of them because the only thing that works is time.
I spent more than 10 minutes of my lunch break the other day searching online for ways to make love bites go away. Oh man, did I get a headache. Would you believe one fool suggested I burn myself with a curling iron to get an excuse to cover the area? How crazy is that?
So after spending a few hours swearing a blue streak at overly personal comments made by people I decided to ask the men. After all who would know better about these things? Well, they were no help. I ended up grinding my teeth and swearing another blue streak. One dude was dumb enough to tell me try the “mosquito excuse”.
Now, do you really want to hear what the women said? Well I got a fine lecture on what “sort of girl gets love bites” and of course I got another lecture about the need for my mouth to be washed with soap and water after I said some pretty nasty things. I mean, gosh, it’s technically just a little clotted blood. So why the heck does it have to be so hard to get rid of?
One man told me that he believes love bites are God’s own creation. I grumbled that it was more the devil’s creation until he told me it was God’s way of showing wives and girlfriends the truth about their men. Hmm, well I never did think of it that way. In my case it serves as evidence that I’m human.
So after being thoroughly irritated all that day by fruitless research on remedies for love bites I finally figured out what I needed to do. The frozen spoon, the warm rags and the massaging didn’t work so I should’ve just dressed up like a magistrate! I mean I could’ve gotten away with it too. People would’ve looked at me and said ‘oh! What a modest girl!
Unfortunately, I didn’t think of the remedy right under my nose. Instead I actually considered burning myself with that curling iron. And then gave myself a neck massage after I nearly froze it off with the spoons I put in my freezer.
The moral of my ramblings? If you’re not bold enough to wear it with pride, think twice before you get a love bite at places not covered by clothes or you will you be overly sensitive about what others think and swear a blue streak for days.
(srh.midnight@gmail.com)
