As I lay on the table with a strange woman wielding hot wax over my private parts, I had the first of what I am sure will be several moments during this project when I ask myself...."What the HELL am I doing?" But wait...I should start at the beginning...
This whole experience began in a less than ideal manner, with my alarm going off at 7:30am. Given that the baby has been waking me up early, I should be used to it...but no. The only appointment I could manage to get at the local day spa was 9:00am. But I figured that would give me the rest of the day to recuperate....So I drag myself out of bed and try to get mentally ready for what is about to occur. And I start thinking....is getting a bikini wax like getting a maid? Everyone i know that has a maid cleans their house a least a little BEFORE the maid comes.(Kind of defeats the purpose but whatever). So I looked down and wondered, should I be doing some pre-grooming before dropping my drawers this morning? But there was no time...plus I wanted to make sure I would get my money's worth, and give her something to work with.
So at 9:00am on the dot I walk into a surprisingly swanky day spa (swanky for Bako anyway). I get all checked in and an overly chipper blonde leads me back to the "private area." Laura, my friendly waxer, leads me into the waxing room. She gives me instructions (apparently if you are not getting a Brazilian wax, you do have the option of leaving your undies on...thank you for that!) and waits outside while I get all settled. As I pull off my jeans, I have to remind myself to breathe. The self talk goes a little something like this "Come on..how bad could it be?? Its just a little wax right? You get your eyebrows done all the time! And come on, you just had a baby cut out of you for God's sake! If you can take 17 staples you can probably handle a little bikini wax!!" So, by the time Laura returns I am pumped! I'm ready!!
"So, this is my first bikini wax," I tell her. I don't know why (and ladies, you can attest to this), but whenever there is someone doing some kind of "procedure" on your lady bits (medical or otherwise), there always seems to be small talk involved. So as I begin to explain my little "35 til 35" experiment, I am keenly aware of the sensation of warm wax hitting my bikini line. We continue to chat as she places the strip. I am mid sentence when she RIIIIIPPPPPSSSS the strip off and I lose my breath. I see spots...and then...I start laughing! When I open my eyes she is looking at me strangely, "Are you ok?" "yeah," I say. "I always laugh when stuff hurts. Keep going." I look down, fully expecting to see a large swath of clear, hairless skin. Imagine my surprise to realize that for all that blinding pain, she barely cleared off anything. Some rapid calculations led me to the conclusion that I was going to have to endure the same wax-rip-seeing spots-laughing process about 12 more times before this ordeal was over. I can finally understand and appreciate why when Darlene attempted to have this done she stopped after one side. Symmetry be damned!! Ha-Ha! All I can say is that I am glad that it was early and the spa wasn't busy because I can only imagine what I sounded like through the door. The alternating screams of "oh my GOD that hurts" and hyena laughter was surely comical.
Fifteen minutes later and she is finished. Looking embarrassed she kept saying "I'm sorry, but you did really great. And it wont hurt so much next time." Next time, MY ASS!!
Thank you, thank you. I had so much fun reading this and laughing. And don't you worry. Grown ass men have screamed like babies when they had their back waxed at the salon I use to work at.
ReplyDelete*catching breath*
ReplyDeleteFits of laughter, that's all I can say.
I like this.