Dark stubble, VERY dark, on a hot Mediterranean lady's lower legs...

...bet all here thought my political rants were crazy enough. And I don't digress. But really, I've examined my share of female bodies, alive and not so much, both professionally and also not so much, but I was nonplussed, I say, nonplussed!!! The facts, ma'am, just the facts. So, she had been walking in for coffee into my cafe Memoir writing haunt for some time, but hell, why would she even look at me, let alone put up with my lame pick up jive. Slim, svelte, just a tad of olive complexion, mid 40's, thickly cropped dark hair--with just a touch of sexy grey streaking, and a physique to match. Dual citizenship. Had the green eyes going as well. And tall enough to eat soup off my head. I'll admit, these types scare me, and not merely for the oodles of femme fatale Jones often involved. (Das gebrannte Kind, scheut das Feuer.) Moth and flickering candle. But she actually struck up a conversation with me, apparently having seen me on the vintage shinny Gold Wing. She had this crappy older rusty Beemer wagon, costing her hundreds of dollars monthly, at a totally honest shop. (Good caring guys, all). So, of course I play up the interest in vintage vehicles, and she gets emotional, talking about what a money pit her beloved crappy BMW had become. Well, with nary a trace of base self- interest, my honorable chivalrous side instantly kicked in. Being, ceteris paribus, a bit of a motor head, she wouldn't be the first distressed damsel this old goat offered to help find a used car. More a case of keeping her from buying junk impulsively. So, one solid decade old cherry Volvo wagon later, she waltzes in to the Coop Cafe again, and proceeds to buy me a nice gift certificate, which she refused to let me refuse. Well, one thing led to another, before I was predictably, but at least ceremoniously, dumped, remaining text pals. She was anyway in the process of moving away during the car search. But those lower legs. oy weh! She always wore tights, no complaints all around, and once, while sitting, with a right leg up, semi yoga style, I saw it all. From just above the medial ankle to mid calf, the lovely skin had hundreds, perhaps thousands, of what at first looked like closed comedones (black heads). They were from shaving the fur, clearly, but just what was I seeing? I'm used to blondes, with the mohn sometimes in no need of the razor at all, ever, if never having begun this bestial act in the first place, slaves to culture all. Wondered I, was she just between regular scrapings, had she never heard of Nair, or of electrolysis. or JUST WTF!?!? Plumb confused, and then before she broke the boys' hearts here and moved away, the stubble was gone! Perhaps it was all only a dream.