CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- Reader advisory: The following may not be suitable for reading while dining. Discretion is advised.

Dinner with friends. Five women, one man. On his way to our dinner, the lone man stopped by a shop that specializes in organic health remedies and products. What follows is an attempt to re-create, sans names (as promised), our conversation.

"How do people know what to do with that stuff?" said the man after hearing an explanation of what neti pots are about. "For instance, what's an ear candle? Is it made from an ear?"

Although familiar with this alternative medicine practice that claims to draw debris from the ear canal, instead of explaining, I said: "Don't be silly. It's for removing ear hair."

That's when I learned my lady friends are as wicked as I am.

"I thought they made those illegal," said one. "You know, after all the ear canal fires."

"No," said another. "But they now have pages of warnings to make sure users know to remove earwax before using."

"Hard to believe anyone wouldn't know to do that. I mean, granted they're ears, but it's still wax we're talking about here. Once wax lights, it can burn for hours."

"Like tires."

"I've heard it smells like sandalwood, actually. Isn't that odd?"

"Maybe that's where sandalwood-scented candles come from. It's not like anyone would fork over cash for a candle labeled 'earwax scented'!"

Our lone man had remained silent through this, his expression resembling that of one who's just discovered his house contained rooms everyone knew existed but him.

"Can you use them for nose hair?" he asked cautiously.

"Why waste the money for something special when you can use regular taper candles?"

"Y'all ever noticed my husband's nose? He has to use pillar candles."

"I bought Allen one of those rotary trimmers."

"How do those work?"

"He claims it shortens and sharpens the hairs. Not a problem with his ears, but with his nose -- when he sneezes, he bleeds."

"My husband has one of those things. Says it works fine when it's new and sharp, but soon as it starts going dull, it'll tangle. If you don't react fast enough, it'll twist your nose like a pretzel."

"I've seen guys with pretzel noses. Is that how it happens?"

"I've heard there are plastic surgeons who specialize in untangling knotted noses. Must be pretty horrific."

"Believe I'll just stick to my tweezers," said our man. "Though the last time I did, I'd swear one of the hairs was attached to my brainstem."

"When I use tweezers, it makes my eyes water. Then I sneeze."

"You mean women have nose hair too?" he asked.

"After a certain age, yeah. But never as bad as what happens to men."

"My dad refuses to deal with his ears. Says he can't see the hair, so it isn't his problem. Claims he's growing an 'earfro.'"

"Some men look like they're growing a shrub."

"Dad's been threatening to let his grow and comb it into a goatee, down and over. Meet in the center. Mom's probably talking to divorce lawyers now."

It was about that time our lone man excused himself to run to the restroom.

Where I'd bet my last dollar he spent some time at the mirror.

Reach Karin Fuller at karinful...@gmail.com.