Merkins

Last summer, while browsing through a bookshop, I came across Mrs Byrne’s dictionary. On flicking through it, I discovered that a merkin is false pubic hair. Wandering along the beach on Cape Cod the following day, I saw a colony of nude bathers, and of course, merkins were very much on my mind. I wondered who had invented the first one, why, and when. As I strolled giving, oh, such a nonchalant sidelong glances, it occurred to me that in the scheme of things conjuring up the notion of merkins was not as singular as I had first thought. Frankly, what a pathetic, desultory straggle of pubic hair there was on the beach that day. It became obvious that I should go into business. Get a tray of splendid bouffant merkins and wonder along the sand with my wares crying, “Who will buy my merkins?“ I could have natural-looking ones, glossy and thick, washed in pH balanced shampoo. I could have dyed merkins, fake-fur merkins for Greenpeace supporters, punk merkins and mohican merkins. There would be no limit to it. I could even branch out into matching merkinwig sets. In fact, by the end of my wander, I had imagined myself a merkin millionaire and collapsed onto my towel exhausted. Sent from my iPhone