The Armpit of the Universe

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Our world keeps spiraling out of control and there appears to be no stopping it.

Now, it seems that we are under a new stricture for women's beauty that is unbelievable and unattainable.

We need sexy armpits. Yes, that's right. ARMPITS.

The advertising was plain. Use their special underarm emollient enriched products and a new level of sexual attraction is within your grasp.

Who knew?

All of those years of dateless nights. Broken dates. No shows. Quick departures.

Everything makes sense now.

If only I had been endowed with sexy armpits, my lonely nights might have ended much sooner.

Oh no!

Now I am plagued with doubt.

Did my husband 'settle' for me because he couldn't find a woman with more desirable armpits?

Was the level of choice simply not decent enough so he selected the least revolting of the possibilities?

How will I ever know?

And, now that women are going to spend, spend, spend to create an all new erogenous zone - how will men compete? Have you ever looked at the hairy armpit of your average man?

Other than divers, swimmers and 'metrosexuals' who feel the need to shave, use depilatory products, peels or wax to remove the thatch that normally inhabits THEIR armpits - most men look more Neanderthal than sexy.

So what do we get?

Better looking KNEES.

Everyone knows most men's knees are just as unsexy as most women's armpits.

So now I must ask, frankly, I am COMPELLED to ask. Will the phrase 'the armpit of the universe' take on an all new meaning?

No more will places that are undesirable take on this appellation!

Now, chic vacation places will be called 'the armpit of the universe' since we are now equating sexual attraction and being part of the 'in crowd' with that once less than pleasing body part.

People who are assigned to areas of the world that are not their first choice for jobs, missions and other assignments will now describe the plum locales and glowingly brag, 'Yeah, I got to go to the armpit of the universe'!

Jealousy will ensue.

Soon, people will fight over the opportunity to be declared the 'one' with the armpits of the universe, so glorious and wondrous that all are humbled by their presence.

Or not.

I cannot in good conscience imagine a pageant in which the women are described by the character of their armpits.

And who decides what sexy is anyway?

To me, there is nothing sexier than a man taking care of his child.

Or a woman who mows the yard so her third shift husband can catch a few more hours of sleep on a summer Saturday.

Sexy is in the eye of the beholder and I am reasonably sure the view doesn't go through the armpit.