This was originally put out into the world as a series of Facebook posts. Some editing has occurred.
Chubb Rub Master Plan
August 11, 2011
Long Winded Story, Laugh at My Expense: So Jill and I went to Athens for a couple of days. Hiked all day, stayed at the OU Inn and walked into town for dinner each night. The first night, we walked to Casa which is on the opposite end of uptown from the OUInn. We both wore a skirt because we are inherently adorable and it was summer. However I was working on a fab case of “chubb rub” by the time we got to dinner. For those of you with skinny thighs who don’t know
what “chubb rub” is FUCK YOU and it’s when chubby thighs rub together and create a chafing situation. Note: fat girl walking in skirt, humid weather=ouchy.
After dinner, tequila is NOT my friend, we wandered further across campus down to South Green and along the bike path back to the Richland bridge. Thighs on fire and not in a sexy way, I was experimenting with moves from the Ministry of Silly Walks, anything to keep my thighs from touching. All adorableness lost, attempts at tying up said skirt into some manner of shorts/diaper configuration were made, epic fail.
The next morning more hiking was in store. The chafing was such that even shorts were painful to walk in much less endure our 6 mile plan.
Me: “I have got to get huge bandaids or I will spend all day walking like I fucked a horse.” A grocery run was on the to-do list so no problem.
Back when Jill, our friend Erin, and I did the 3-Day cancer walk, they recommended moleskin because it stayed in place really well and you could put it over blisters then remove it without tearing the shit out of your blister.
Slap a slab of moleskin on the inside of each thigh and go. No pain! I hiked 6 miles in 4 hours, climbed over all kinds of bullshit, saw nature, no problems. Disgustingly sweating, mud covered and gross at the end.
So I was disgusting(not a new thing).
We headed back for showers and naps pre-dinner. Back at the inn, I began to deliberate my next move.
Voice 1: “Leave the moleskin on, wear the other skirt. Yea, skirts in summer!”
Voice 2:”Hey, you smell like ass and that moleskin has been rubbing between your thighs all day. Gross.”
I went with Voice 2 and this is where the next phase of my “injury” occurred.
Remember how I thought the moleskin would be easy to remove? I have no comparison for how attached to my inner thighs this stuff was. Picture me naked in a hotel bathroom (or don’t, it’s not too pretty these days) trying desperately yet delicately to peel this stuff off, all the while envisioning it ripping off a 3″x 4″ area of skin. Every time I pulled on the moleskin, it stretched the attached inner thigh skin. I guess the best image would be when you’re trying to peel the bumpy outer skin off of a piece of chicken. I was on the edge of shrieking for Jill to help. Tests of friendship: will you still love me if you have to help me pull adhesive off my inner thighs?
My next theory was that getting the moleskin wet in the shower would somehow dissolve the adhesive. Not working. Fortunately, our disgusting hotel tub was draining very slowly despite missing the actual plug to the drain. I sat down and began my work underwater. One shower and a tub soak and I managed to get both pieces off. HOWEVER…
Both pieces left behind ALL of their adhesive. So now not only were my thighs horribly chafed, but they were literally sticking together, sticking to anything that I tried to wipe the adhesive off with and sticking to any clothing I put on. At one point my thighs were stuck to the toilet lid I was sitting on as I tried to remove tiny bits of toilet paper that I had attempted to wipe the adhesive off with.
So … I went with shorts for that evening’s dinner. Understand though that in order to go to the bathroom or get undressed, I could get my shorts down to mid thigh then had to slowly peel the fabric off one shrieking thigh at a time as I watched tiny little blood vessels burst. We left the bar when I told Jill, “I think I can go to the bathroom one more time before I bleed out through my thighs.”
We all know when we rub Kleenex, toilet paper, or fabric across something adhesive, it sticks. At this point, post-hike and home from our Athens vacation, the pain had ceased. However I now had two 3″x 4″ patches of skin made out of the residual fuzz of Kleenex and my blue shorts with rug burn looking red spots peeking through. Going at the adhesive with finger nail polish remover was suggested, but I wound up back in the bathtub for a while working at the adhesive with lotion. If this was an essay for all the books I should be writing about the dumb things that happen, I’d have a catchier ending. Athens is still an awesome place to be and Jill still snores in her sleep.