Wax Schmax

Since last week I wrote about one of the best days of my life I found it fitting to now write about one of the worst.  This event does not qualify as "the worst day of my life" but certainly is in the top five.  This day was the first, and second to last, bikini wax I would ever get.  Bikini waxing has scarred me for life.  My body literally shutters and basically has a grand mal seizure upon spotting hot wax.

The first time I decided to get a bikini wax was when the word "brazilian wax" became a household name.  I've been pretty fearless in my life and this was not even a little scary.  "How convenient," I thought "I do not have to shave, for like, weeks."  So I skipped on into a salon that had a good reputation.  What I did not know was that their reputation had recently kamakazied into shitty-ass-salon status.  My waxer, we'll call SATAN, brought me into a room, and literally threw see-through, blue gauze, disposable underwear at me.  She said "put these on" and shut the door.  Ummm, shouldn't I at least get a "Hi how are you?", a "welcome to the salon", a "I'm about to destroy your vagina"...something?  Words, use your words, SATAN. 

It's times like these I truly wish I listened to my inner fear child.  I picture a really cute, little furry (fitting) creature shaking and hugging itself in my head saying "Get out! Get out!".  But I told the creature to "Man-up, this is... ahhhhh... normal."  I sat in the room with these creepy diaper, disposable underoos on awaiting SATAN's return.  When she came in I don't recall eye contact but she said "lay back", and went to the waxing.  I'm not even sure it would constitute for waxing as much as Chinese torture.  With each pull there was a half second delay before the pain would hit me so hard I thought I would go into shock.  And just as I would recover from that strip she would yank on another.  I couldn't even get a "Ahh Kelly Clarkson" out. 

I was afraid that when I stood up I would have no more skin left and I'd be able to see my uterus.  She left as quickly as she came in and thankfully so.  I was really close to punching her in her vagina.  I was sweaty, my eyes were bloodshot, and the chick left wax ALL over me.  Nevermind that I looked like Pooh-gone-wild but she didn't even get all the hair.  Feeling like I should file a police report, but too scared to, I walked out to pay and pouted all the way to my car.  I was a little afraid SATAN was gonna jump me in the parking lot.  I called my friend D and asked if my experience was normal.  She howled a "NOOOOOO!" and made me go get a refund. 

Years later I tried one more time at a place a friend referred to me.  It was the same miserable experience except it ended without being slathered with hot wax and all the hair was gone.  So when chicks tell me they get bikini waxes (which comes up more often in conversation than you'd think) I pretty much think they are masochists and like to get knifed in the face as well.