Free Sellevision by Augusten Burroughs

as it was part of her job to be modern and in-touch with popular culture.
    Then Peggy Jean read her E-mail messages. A few of them asked about the watch she was wearing on a recent broadcast. A couple of them were book recommendations, one of which she made a note of (she’d always been a sucker for Western romance novels). And one of the E-mails was from Zoe.

To: [email protected]
Fr: [email protected]
Subject:Too good for me, huh?
I get it, Peggy Jean. I’m no fool. Go ahead and hide behind your hairspray and your clumpy mascara. But make no mistake: your utter selfishness has not gone unnoticed. And sure, while the hair on your earlobes may be gone, you are still a HAIRY BITCH with a mustache—and the only reason I didn’t mention the mustache thing to you before is because I, unlike you, am a person who cares about the feelings of another person.
You snotty, fake woman: You just wait: That “hubby” of yours is going to open his eyes one morning very soon and see this bleach-blond, artificial cow sleeping next to him and he’s going to go out and find himself a REAL woman who UNDERSTANDS THE CONCEPT OF BODILY MAINTENANCE, who doesn’t require a complete stranger to tell her to pull herself together. And who doesn’t sound like a logger. Fuck you and your screwy hormones.
Go to hell,
Zoe :(

    “ A mustache? ” Peggy Jean cried, then immediately retrieved the compact from her purse and checked her reflection. What she saw was shocking: faint—but present—hairs along her upper lip. She snapped the compact shut and tossed it back into her purse.
    How could she have missed them?
    Oh, and the awful, putrid tone of that letter! How could this Zoe person say such horrible things? And yet, she’d been right about the mustache. And what was that about sounding like a logger? Peggy Jean had sung soprano in high school. Was her voice actually changing, becoming deeper? Was Zoe right about that , too? Peggy Jean immediately picked up the telephone and dialed her physician. Something was definitely wrong.
    “Dr. Stewart’s office, may I help you?” said the voice on the other end of the line.
    “Yes, I need to speak with Dr. Stewart.” Peggy Jean drummed her fingers on her desktop.
    “I’m sorry, she’s with a patient right now. May I take a message?”
    “This is an emergency ,” Peggy Jean exploded. “ Please. ”
    The receptionist sighed and placed Peggy Jean on hold.
    A few moments later, Dr. Stewart came on the line. “Is something the matter Peggy Jean? Are you okay?”
    “Dr. Stewart, did you get my test results back yet?”
    “Test results?” the doctor asked.
    “Yes, my test results, you know, for my hormonal condition, my female problems? ”
    The doctor chuckled. “Oh, now I remember. Yes, of course I got the results back. I told you that I’d call you if anything was the matter, and everything is, of course, perfectly fine, so I didn’t call.”
    “But it can’t be fine, something’s wrong!” Peggy Jean’s voice cracked with panic. “I have an actual mustache now, it’s spread from my ears to my face.”
    “Peggy Jean, I really can’t speak right now, I have a patient. But let me assure you that everything is normal with your blood work, there’s nothing hormonal the matter with you.”
    In other words, Peggy Jean thought, whatever was wrong with her was going to remain untreated, left to take its own disastrous course. “Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m not imagining this, you know? My fans are noticing, I’m getting letters from them.”
    “Peggy Jean, I’ve already explained this to you; we all have little hairs. I have little hairs, you have little hairs, even movie stars like Kathy Bates have little hairs. It’s just part of being human. Now good-bye, I must go.”
    Dear God , was she as hairy as Kathy Bates? “Wait, Dr. Stewart?” Peggy Jean pleaded. “Please, then, at least give me a little something to calm my nerves. I’m just very confused and