We were at a party last night when a male friend asked if we’d seen the billboard in Tampa. “Which one?” I asked curiously. He looked at his wife and grinned. “They haven’t seen it. Can you tell?” She giggled. It seems there is a billboard promoting …are you ready for this….Cosmetic Gynecology.
The words no sooner rolled off his tongue when every woman in the room crossed their legs and began having contractions. Thank the Lord my mother is in Heaven and will never see this sign.
In Bette’s house there was no mention of anything below the belly button and above our thighs. It was called, “Down Below”. She always said it in a husky voice. To this day when someone says, “Look down below” I shudder, even if they are talking about their kitchen cabinets. We were on my father-in-law’s cabin cruiser once, and when he asked me to get him something down below, I felt faint.
Now I am sure there are medical reasons for this surgery. I just don’t like to imagine it. In fact, I’m afraid to check out my “Down Below” to see if I require such surgery. Lately I’ve been so bombarded with commercials on my sagging eyes, double chin and let’s not forget the wrinkles (big and small), I just don’t have the brain capacity to add one more thing to my need to improve list.
I am concerned that this billboard might cause women driving minivans, Jaguars and BMWs to drive right off the road and over the Skyway Bridge. Just imagine you lost your job, kids are in trouble, your husband is cheating and now you come upon this sign. They ought to consider an exit ramp right there to let women just drive right off into the Gulf of Mexico!
Seriously, what else can need improving on our bodies? I don’t believe to my knowledge that a single woman at the party thought they needed cosmetics in that area. How does this even come up in conversation? “Mary, would you like white wine or red? I’ve been meaning to ask you, “How is your vagina these days?” “Oh Jolene, thanks for asking. My husband thinks it needs a beauty treatment.” Mary should immediately go over and whack Jolene’s husband and tell him to keep his eyes to himself! That’s what a good girlfriend would do.
I remember when I asked my husband if I should get a facial rejuvination. He put on his trifocal glasses and shrieked in horror as he reported that I have fur on my face. When I asked about my lines he asked, “Do you want the big or small line count?” He also mentioned that my eyes looked droopy. This did not go over well. I hid his trifocals the very next day.
Now imagine your boyfriend, husband (or both) mentions that you might want to consider visiting the cosmetic gynecologist office. I would dump both of them immediately. For the love of God, it’s not like this area is exposed to the world. I haven’t seen a single billboard for men to have their privates touched up. They just want to make it bigger! They can take that blue pill and all is well in their boxers. Why can’t women have a pink touch-up pill? Even as I write that I’m wondering what would I touch up?
And so ladies, I suggest you just ignore that billboard. Even though you may have wrinkles (apparently they can be in other places too) just keep your clothes on, smile and no one will ever know. We have larger issues to worry about. We are so much more than just a pretty vagina!