Fire Crotch: The Ginger Perspective

“I hear the carpet matches the curtains.”

She said it directly, a smile barely escaping from a tongue that kept wagging across the front of her teeth. It was flirty the first two times, but by the third she started to look like a German Shepherd with peanut butter stuck to the roof of its mouth.

Genuine Fire Crotch

“I put hardwood flooring in a long time ago.” I’m embarrassed. My canned answer of shaving never satisfies and is partially a lie.I should’ve been more offended, but she wasn’t unattractive. I’ve grown used to it, having red hair evokes questions from people in almost every social situation. You’d think between the invention of google and xtube people wouldn’t need to probe a redhead in real life. But there’s just something about us that makes people yearn for proof of colored pubes (similar to Bigfoot, but less rare and much more mystical).

My older brother’s friends started calling me names before I even had fuel for the fire that would soon be on my “crotch”, a word that has since disgusted me. It reminded me of wrinkly grandma armpits, sweat, and something sickly. I didn’t know what was between my legs, but if it was a grandma’s armpit on fire I was sure as hell going to get rid of it.

I didn’t know what the fire was or how to put it out, so my pubes enjoyed about 6 months of freedom directly after puberty. Then I had my first experience with nudity and the opposite sex. I remember hearing “look her pubes are red!” The obvious statement seemed a lot more threatening as a 13-year-old girl. I vowed to never play strip poker again (which actually only lasted a year) then I shaved every pubic hair I could find (which lasted for seven years).

I’ve recently come to terms with the packaged deal of being a redhead: glow-in-the-dark white skin, bubble-gum colored areolas, freckles, and what could be considered an allergy to the sun. My seven-year shave streak was probably a little dramatic, but it wasn’t all about my fiery crotch. The completely bare look has become more and more popular, as I’ve become less and less attached to it. I’m still not prepared to let the fire get out of hand, but I like to keep a little bit burning.

I’m more comfortable about being a redhead than I’ve ever been. But just because I’m comfortable, does not mean you should ask me about my pubic hair (especially in public). For the last time, YES, all redheads are born as interior designers and the carpet matches the curtains.

What sex question do you always get? Post Below in the Comments!

Lindsey

June 2nd, 2010 at 1:06 pm

GFS chuckles here. I’m entertained and delighted.

Tyler

June 11th, 2010 at 2:55 pm

In my experience, the curtains do NOT always match the carpet – and this is where the intrigue comes in.

Anne Harris

June 30th, 2010 at 10:38 pm

ok as I’m entering the crone age, I’ll skip the rebuttal to Grandma’s sags and bags.

So the question I get that I get the most,”So if you love women and want to have sex with women, why did you change your sex.”

My favorite answer “I longed for the company of women.” tip of the nib to Armistead Maupin whose character Anna Madrigal said this line to Brian in Tales of the City (you can borrow book or video from me)

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