CC’s Traveling Pube Museum

August 28, 2011 at 2:20 am (On the road again..., Sweet sticky things)

She’d gotten dressed and was sitting in the front yard when I arrived. I handed her the bag with the spaghetti sauce and the forty of Mickey’s.

“Thanks, baby. Let’s put this inside.” She put the sauce on the kitchen counter, popped open the forty and took a long pull before descending to the basement. Once down below, she asked, “So, what are you doing today?”

“I’m going downtown to get a bus pass holder.” I pulled her close and whispered into her ear..

“Yeah, sure!” She began unbuckling her pants in immediate compliance.

“Let’s wait a minute. I’ll get it before I go…”

On Wednesday night, the new TriMet lanyards began appearing. It wasn’t the groovy neck strap that caught my eye, but the plastic holder attached to it. I’d been looking for this particular kind for years. Everyone had clear plastic passholders, but I’d only found one with a waterproof Ziploc closure. I’d bought it in the fishing license department at a GI Joe’s (remember those, locals?) about ten years ago. It had been reinforced with clear tape to the point where you could barely tell what color the bus pass was. It was long overdue for replacement.

There was more than a little sentimental value attached. ThatGirl’s tiny business card from an old blog we used to share. A bus pass with a lucky date on it. My 24-Hour Fatness club card from the Mizelle days. But the most prized cargo in the bus pass holder, the one thing I didn’t want to lose?

One of Rain’s loose pubic hairs.

The first time I hooked up with Rain was a clandestine affair. I’d sneaked off during lunch hour for a quickie and caught the bus back just in time. I’d not had time to tidy up. Guys were oblivious, but women were catching a whiff and giving me the quizzical eye. I reveled in how nice my beard smelled. Back in the bathroom at work, getting my game face on, I used a piece of floss to remove something from under my gum line.

It was a hair. Short, kinky, and oh so black. Oh, my.


I cherished that lone pube. It went into my bus pass holder and went on to attain thousands of TriMet frequent-flier miles. When I showed Rain, she laughed at my story, then looked at me like I was a little crazy. You know you’ve made it when Rain gives you one of those looks.

Clairissa related when I told her the story. She is, after all, a woman with a baseball-sized clump of my neck hair on her mantle. I told her of my quest for a new holder. I decided to up the ante, and ask for one of her pubes to keep Rain’s company.


As I prepared to leave, she came out of the bathroom, completely naked. She stood in front of me. “Pick one. Make it a good one. The only ones long enough to grab are the blonde ones. Need tweezers?”

I saw one particular long blonde one, running parallel to her labia. “I want that one!” I pinched it between two fingers, but it slipped through my grip. “Nah, I think I’ve got it. Brace yours-”



My firm grasp and (pardon the phrase) snatching motion yielded both the prize and a yelping mohawked woman. “Sonofabitch! That hurt!”

“Hey, I thought you were into pain these days?”

She looked for something painful to throw at me. I gave her plenty of space in case she was successful. Note to self: Trace to where the pube roots before plucking next time.

I put the long blonde pubic hair into my bus pass, where it settled down next to Rain’s. This would be the last ride for both hairs in this current vessel. A new home awaits at the TriMet office.

I bought next month’s pass, and inquired as to how much the passholders cost? I was ready to spend up to $5 for what is essentially a heavy-duty plastic baggie.

Actual cost, fifty cents. “I’ll take six!” Considering how long the last one survived, that should be a lifetime supply. The nice lady gave me a rubber band to keep them in order.

The moment had come. Moving day at the Pube Museum. I gently pulled out the contents onto an orange piece of paper. Hmm, no black pube. No blonde one, either. WTF? I pawed carefully, used the tiny keychain flashlight. Nothing.


I ran my finger down the inside of the old passholder, nothing was coming out. Not even the blonde one that had been in there less than twelve hours. Again, WTF?

Eventually I took a pair of scissors and cut the old one open. I don’t know if Rain’s pube made a run for it when Clairissa’s came to town, or if Clairissa’s bleached-blondeness was so hot Rain’s pube couldn’t resist and they ran off together on another form of alternative transportation.

All I know is that I am now pubeless, thanks to the new TriMet bus pass holders.

It’s likely to remain that way. I haven’t seen Rain in months.

And I’m probably gonna have to wait a while for Clairissa to forget how much plucking one little hair can sting…

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