I am a chin-hair-plucker

I am an addicted chin-hair-plucker. It started out harmless, this huge black hair just popped out, and I plucked it, and that made me aware of a change, so I started looking for hairs and found a few blond ones, and so I plucked. It became a nightly thing, sitting in front of the mirror, plucking away, something I did alone, and if Mr. Zelda walked in, I put those tweezers away.
Now, I pluck at the stop light, after class, in the mall, in fact, I carry my favorite pluckers in my back pack, and as soon as I think I feel something, out they come and I pluck away. I can do the fast pluck with the hidden tweezers, so fast no one knows. Yep, I am my grandmother; she was like that, except she wouldn’t pluck all the time. I must say, while I am so eager to pluck, I really am not that hairy. I think it is an obsession but an obsession that I get a little pleasure from, my friend thinks it’s erotic, that plucking. I will not go that far, but I must say, it is a sensation that grows on you, not quite as good as sex, but better than biting my nails. There you have, Zelda1’s secret, it’s out, I am a chin-hair-plucker.