In preparation for my weekend getaway I decided to get a Brazilian Wax.....millions of strippers can't be wrong, right? Ive had one before, but like an abused dog, I somehow forgot all about it. So I get to my appointment and meet the 20 something year old girl that is going to get to know me better than my 50 year old Gynecologist. She is blonde, in perfect shape and with boobs perkier than a good lemon meringue pie. I was already mortified and my pants were still up. I decide to fall back on my wit, charm and humor and throw every funny one liner at her I can think of, so she will just remember how funny I am and not any part of my possible aged anatomy. ;)
She tells me right away that she is the fastest in the salon...I'm not sure if that is supposed to make me feel better, or make me worry, although I hold back saying: "take your time!" I really don't want her down there any longer than she has to be. So before you know it, the warm wax is applied, and a soothing sensation that I haven't felt in a while penetrates my body. A slow smile appears across my face before SWWAACK! The sound of ripping flesh puts me in a full blown panic attack and I hear nothing but pure blasphemy coming out of my mouth. Blondie laughs and quickly presses a cold washcloth on the part where the hair was. OMG!!! I yell at her, letting her know that I totally forgot how much that hurts. She quickly moves onto the next area without missing a beat and before I can tell her how I usually have a high pain tolerance I hear myself shout: "Mother of everything Holy!" "How do women do this?" I say and Blondie insists that the more you do it, the less it hurts. Yeah, I'm sure it does, because you begin to lose feeling by pulling out your nerve endings. One more rip of pure hell before my experience takes another interesting turn. The next think you know, Blondie is going through me like a card catalogue filing system. I must admit that the "inside" was not as painful as the "outside" although I was in so much pain now that I was loosing all feeling. At this point, my eyes started filling up with tears, although something wonderful and comforting in the corner of the room drew my attention. As Blondie continued to rip through my inners, I asked "are those girl scout cookies?" Yes, do you want to buy some? I put out my bottom lip and shook my head up and down like a five year old.
"Ok, roll over and pull your knees up to your chest,"....this is Blondie's next instruction to me. It took awhile for my system to comprehend what she said, and then to decide if she was really serious. "Um, what?" Blondie explained that we would be waxing the anus and then we would be done. "I absolutely cannot do that," I said. She tried to explain that that was the best part. I respectfully dissagree and again revert to using my humor and announce that I can guarantee that no one will be that close up to notice I "missed a spot" she laughed again and then pointed to the wall of shining stones and asked if I would like a rinestone pattern put on my new hairless body part. I could barely make out the shiny designs on the wall, but did notice the "cherries" and thought that if I were that progressive, I would probably pick those. I passed on being bedazzled and tried to listen to my at home instructions when I was handed a glove that I was supposed to use in the shower. I must have had a puzzled look on my face because Blondie said "its to exfoliate with, so you don't get ingrown hairs." "Like a muffin mitt?" I say, which of course Blondie says she has never heard of before.
Needless to say, the time went by fast. Its amazing how that happens during a storm of shear torture. Blondie automatically made me another appointment a month away with a promise that if I keep it up, it wont hurt as much. I don't argue...just grab my girl scout cookes and walk out the door with a new found cool breeze and my pride "down there."
