Walking carpet

“Really.” Mac arched a thick eyebrow. “You didn't say anything about my body hair when we were going out together.” / Peter kept his eyes on the espresso and away from Mac's hairy wrist. “You're not like...that guy. You're not a walking carpet. And my God, you've got muscle definition.”

But then my true hair problems began. […] It was all the other hairs rearing their ugly heads—between my eyebrows, above my upper lip, around my jawline, down my neck, around my new breasts, down my front to my navel, over my arms and knuckles, right down my legs to my toes. I didn't recall ever seeing a woman shaving her face and "taking it all off' on that Noxema commercial. None of the other girls at school appeared to be walking carpets.

I had *some* chest hairs, but it wasn't nearly as much as some guys I've seen (there were a couple of guys I saw in the locker room at school, both seniors, who were practically walking carpets).