There was a time, when I was fancy, that I would tend the herd by getting a waxing. If you’ve never had it done, chances are you’ve seen it on TV. I’m not sure why, but they love to film women getting waxed on reality TV.
There is nothing classy about a nether waxing. I have tried self waxing and much like cutting my own bangs, this is an arena best served by professionals.
In the same way that I struggle to hold eye contact with my gyno, I would do my best to greet “kim” at the door of the salon with a “I’m pretending you won’t be glaring at my bits and pieces in a minute” plastered smile.
You may ask yourself why would a girl like me, go for a service like this. Maybe not, but because I am a compulsive over-sharer, I will tell you anyway.
At the beginning of one summer it seems I had done an insufficient job grooming myself and had an escapee…out the top of my bottoms. Which went unnoticed by me…alone. Yep, stubby hubs hunk came over to me at the pool to tell me something. Leaned down and whispered that I had hair sticking out. Luckily I was sitting in a public place in a circle of chairs filled with people I knew. One of which was a teen aged boy. Now sudden sense was made of the exchange I overheard between he and his mother. “She’s got hair…” He was cut off by his mother. “Yeah, just ignore it.”.
Clearly, I needed an intervention. Or a bigger suit. Off too the salon I went. They were always talking about how wonderful it is to be smooth… While held captive with your paint drying. I decided it was time to give it a try.
It’s dumb. I felt awkward. Like a good girl I kept at it.
I’ve assumed the position. Which looks a lot like the stretches we used to do for track. I’m pretty sure if I still had tonsils she could have seen them. She’s down there water boarding with hot wax and cotton strips. Chatting away. Suddenly her head pops up like a mechanic from under the hood of a Chevy and asks, “what happened here?”
“Where?” I ask. I am as self aware as the next gal, but it’s been a while since I have visited the vulva mirror. Could it have been from taming that wild bucking bronco? Maybe, teaching myself to ride the 10 foot unicycle. I suppose I could have done it while juggling sabers, but that’s a stretch as I haven’t yet been courageous enough to attempt the old through the leg toss. Not wanting her to worry about me and my dangerous hobbies, I just simply said, “huh, not sure.”
This was the end of my fancy days. I decided then that Brazil should be left to the World Cup.
Now please excuse me as I am teaching my alpaca French today.