Sweet Jesus ... what was I thinking?
Today I finally got the courage to do this whole "Bikini Wax" thing. I was really really hoping this thing was a fad and it was going to go away, but it didn't. :(
After my relaxing message I walked next door (with my husband in tow) and I grew some balls and asked the lady how much the bikini wax was. She could probably tell by my face that I had never done this before. She smiled and pointed at the BIG price board behind her. Oops... fail #1.
Holy Hell, $45 to rip hair off of someone’s body? Really? UGH ...
After talking myself in and out of doing the wax, I decided that since I was here I might as well just do it. I mean, my motto in life is to try everything once, and the fun things twice. This wasn't quite what I had in mind. The moment that I said that I wanted to do this, a tiny girl comes up to me and starts talking to me about her prices and what she does and does not do. ... I'm confused. All I wanted was a bikini wax.
I turned to her and asked if her "waxer" (is that what they are called these days?) was in. She looked at me puzzled ... maybe they aren't called "Waxers"... maybe they are called Dominatrix’s or Torture Queens ... or something like that. I guess it took her a second to realize that I wasn't there to get my hair or nails done, I just wanted a wax. She told me that everyone in the salon was trained in how to wax and that she would be more than happy to take care of it. Sigh ... really? I get the tiny cute girl to put hot wax on my "no no" zone and rip it off? Wasn't there some old Asian lady that could do this for me? At least I wouldn't have to talk to her.
I explained to her that I had never done this before and she said "Oh, me neither." ... that should have been a sign. I didn't listen to my intuition. She said that it would take her a moment to heat up the wax and that she would come out to get me in a second.
Those "seconds" were the longest ever. It is like sitting outside the principal’s office in H.S. ... or sitting in the car when a police man pulls you over before you realize what you were pulled over for.
She finally calls me back and I drag my husband with me to the closet of hell. It was a little dark in there with a table of EVIL pots with red lights and lots of popsicle sticks. Didn't look too promising. On the chair / table I see a tiny TINY tiny package wrapped up. She tells me to undress from the waist down and put these on and she'll be back in. I opened up the TINY package and it was a pair of paper-ish underwear. What. The. Hell. I slipped them on and they UNCOMFORTABLY sat in my post baby mid section. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a small girl by any means, but I'm also not over grotesque. So why the tiny ass paper panties?
I lay on the table with the towel over my no-no zone and waited. And Waited some more. She finally comes back in, no doubt she was telling all of her stylist friends that she was about to go where no woman has gone before... I had told her that my girlfriend told me not to shave for 3 weeks. The look on her face was priceless. I think she might have thrown up a little in her mouth. Believe me, I did too. It was awful to let "her" grow out... she kind of goes crazy and decides to take “HERSELF” back to cave man times.
Anyway, she comes back in and I won't shut up. I keep saying over and over how nervous I am. She finally asks me what I wanted. Again, I'm confused. What do you mean what do I want? I want you to pour hot shit on me and then rip it off when it semi-hardens. How hard is that to understand? She looks at me and I can tell that she is sensing the sarcastic remarks. She says again, " So what is it that you want? Triangle? Square? any other design?" ... WHOA, I can get a damn design on the No-No zone grass? I look at Russ and he is so uneasy it isn't even funny. He says, "It really doesn't matter, as long as you hare happy baby." That was his cop out answer instead of "Let's get this over with cuz this does not look fun and I’m sure you’re going to punch me eventually"
I chose the traditional ... whatever that was. I think I set her up for failure. She hands me a small hand towel and says that I can hold it over my eyes. WHY would I need to cover my eyes? Is it because I might try to kick you and you want to make sure I can't see you? Ok, I grab the towel and succumb to the darkness under the towel.
The next thing I hear is her say "Well, let's trim this up a bit before we begin. I don't want it to hurt anymore than it has to." Excuse me, I can't help it if my hair grows fast, but did you have to say it like THAT?
She tries to make small talk. "How many kids do you have? How long have you been married? Where about do you guys live?" Blah blah blah ... let's just get this over with.
Then it began ...
Never ever in my life ... never EVER in my life have I ever experienced a pain like I was about to.
With the small towel over my eyes, she says, "Ok, here is the first set of wax." I think my eyes crossed so far it took me a second to regain the muscle function. Now hot wax is pretty hot on your eyebrows ... but stick that shit down in between your legs. THAT is a whole different type of HOT! It instantly cooled though, which was good. I felt her put the cloth down and she rubbed it in. "OK," she says, "I need you to pull up your stomach to keep the skin tight."
I don't think I pulled my skin hard enough. She did the countdown and I held my breath. 3, 2, 1......
Every bit of me had to make sure that I didn't swing on her or try to kick her. I could feel the hairs in my head scream, for fear that they would receive the same fate. I believe there is a traveling communication system with all of the hairs in my body, they all tried to burrow themselves back into my body. Kind of the way a mans balls do when they get into the cold ocean. I think my butt hold actually puckered up. I might have tinkled a bit. I can't really remember because it was a bit of a blur. A hot, painful, ripping, torturous blur.
When the initial shock went away, the stinging set in. Dear Lord, what have I done? I've paid a woman to rip off a layer of my skin. Well, I can't stop now or I'll look like that guy from "40 Year Old Virgin." Ok, I gotta keep going, that is what my mother would have said (Mom, do we remember the phrase “the head is almost out, you can see it!” LIAR). She had her hand on the part that was ripped off and was applying "pressure." Pansy pressure but it was still pressure none the less. I pulled the towel from my eyes to see my husbands face pale but he was shaking uncontrollably with silent laughter. JERK! Later, he says he was laughing because I had done it to myself and that my face had turned a new shade of "HOLY SHIT BALLS" red...
I finally let out my breath and moved the other leg so she could do the other side, she looked at me and said I didn't have to move just yet. WHAT? "Oh, we only took off a small patch. That was the first section right here..." I looked down at my now SWOLLEN skin and I couldn't believe it... she took off the size of a thumb ... that's it. All she removed was a small patch! OH MY GOD!!! She said that the first patch is the roughest but it will numb up soon. I'm here to tell you that it NEVER numbs up. She added wax to the next section, I swear that she was adding wax o the same area, because it seemed to be hotter than before. I placed the towel back over my eye ..
RIP!!! This bitch! Hefer didn’t even give me a damn count down this time. I didn’t realize we were cool like that just yet.
Oh Jesus ... Lord help me! I can't do this. You know what, I can just shave off the rest. I can't do it, it's not worth it. ... these are all things that I should have said out loud because by the end of that last thought, she had already slapped down more wax, I could feel it dripping between my legs (remember, I got the bikini wax, not the BRAZILIAN wax.) Oh my ... 3, 2, 1 ... RIPPPP!!!
This time, I think that I clenched my jaw so hard that I might have broken a tooth. I also think that I saw a bright light behind my eye lids. I firmly believe that it was my brain trying to convince me that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Probably a part of my sub conscious begging me to stop.
I let go of my breath and pulled the towel down from my eyes. Half way done ... on half of my body. I didn't want to look like a freak so I had to go thru with the rest of it.
I threw my head back down and tried to find my happy place.
All in all, I think I might have created new curse words, I think that I have permanently scarred my husband into never letting me do this again. I do believe that at some point in the room an angel visited me. Then a second later the devil popped up, kicked the angel and placed his hot burning hand on my NO NO zone, in the form of the waxer.
I waddled out of the room, somewhat sticky and with my credit card in hand. Oh, did I forget to mention that I was wearing jeans that day? Jeans that are some what form fitting. They don’t get off allllll of the wax, so I had to relive the pain for the next few hours until we got home. Step. Stick. Rip. Ouch. Repeat... Step. Stick. Rip. Ouch... Repeat ...
I can now say that I've lived thru a bikini wax. I'm not sure if I'll ever do it again ... but I can say that I've joined the cult of women who endure much pain to look beautiful.
All in all ... F*** THAT!!!!
Today I finally got the courage to do this whole "Bikini Wax" thing. I was really really hoping this thing was a fad and it was going to go away, but it didn't. :(
After my relaxing message I walked next door (with my husband in tow) and I grew some balls and asked the lady how much the bikini wax was. She could probably tell by my face that I had never done this before. She smiled and pointed at the BIG price board behind her. Oops... fail #1.
Holy Hell, $45 to rip hair off of someone’s body? Really? UGH ...
After talking myself in and out of doing the wax, I decided that since I was here I might as well just do it. I mean, my motto in life is to try everything once, and the fun things twice. This wasn't quite what I had in mind. The moment that I said that I wanted to do this, a tiny girl comes up to me and starts talking to me about her prices and what she does and does not do. ... I'm confused. All I wanted was a bikini wax.
I turned to her and asked if her "waxer" (is that what they are called these days?) was in. She looked at me puzzled ... maybe they aren't called "Waxers"... maybe they are called Dominatrix’s or Torture Queens ... or something like that. I guess it took her a second to realize that I wasn't there to get my hair or nails done, I just wanted a wax. She told me that everyone in the salon was trained in how to wax and that she would be more than happy to take care of it. Sigh ... really? I get the tiny cute girl to put hot wax on my "no no" zone and rip it off? Wasn't there some old Asian lady that could do this for me? At least I wouldn't have to talk to her.
I explained to her that I had never done this before and she said "Oh, me neither." ... that should have been a sign. I didn't listen to my intuition. She said that it would take her a moment to heat up the wax and that she would come out to get me in a second.
Those "seconds" were the longest ever. It is like sitting outside the principal’s office in H.S. ... or sitting in the car when a police man pulls you over before you realize what you were pulled over for.
She finally calls me back and I drag my husband with me to the closet of hell. It was a little dark in there with a table of EVIL pots with red lights and lots of popsicle sticks. Didn't look too promising. On the chair / table I see a tiny TINY tiny package wrapped up. She tells me to undress from the waist down and put these on and she'll be back in. I opened up the TINY package and it was a pair of paper-ish underwear. What. The. Hell. I slipped them on and they UNCOMFORTABLY sat in my post baby mid section. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a small girl by any means, but I'm also not over grotesque. So why the tiny ass paper panties?
I lay on the table with the towel over my no-no zone and waited. And Waited some more. She finally comes back in, no doubt she was telling all of her stylist friends that she was about to go where no woman has gone before... I had told her that my girlfriend told me not to shave for 3 weeks. The look on her face was priceless. I think she might have thrown up a little in her mouth. Believe me, I did too. It was awful to let "her" grow out... she kind of goes crazy and decides to take “HERSELF” back to cave man times.
Anyway, she comes back in and I won't shut up. I keep saying over and over how nervous I am. She finally asks me what I wanted. Again, I'm confused. What do you mean what do I want? I want you to pour hot shit on me and then rip it off when it semi-hardens. How hard is that to understand? She looks at me and I can tell that she is sensing the sarcastic remarks. She says again, " So what is it that you want? Triangle? Square? any other design?" ... WHOA, I can get a damn design on the No-No zone grass? I look at Russ and he is so uneasy it isn't even funny. He says, "It really doesn't matter, as long as you hare happy baby." That was his cop out answer instead of "Let's get this over with cuz this does not look fun and I’m sure you’re going to punch me eventually"
I chose the traditional ... whatever that was. I think I set her up for failure. She hands me a small hand towel and says that I can hold it over my eyes. WHY would I need to cover my eyes? Is it because I might try to kick you and you want to make sure I can't see you? Ok, I grab the towel and succumb to the darkness under the towel.
The next thing I hear is her say "Well, let's trim this up a bit before we begin. I don't want it to hurt anymore than it has to." Excuse me, I can't help it if my hair grows fast, but did you have to say it like THAT?
She tries to make small talk. "How many kids do you have? How long have you been married? Where about do you guys live?" Blah blah blah ... let's just get this over with.
Then it began ...
Never ever in my life ... never EVER in my life have I ever experienced a pain like I was about to.
With the small towel over my eyes, she says, "Ok, here is the first set of wax." I think my eyes crossed so far it took me a second to regain the muscle function. Now hot wax is pretty hot on your eyebrows ... but stick that shit down in between your legs. THAT is a whole different type of HOT! It instantly cooled though, which was good. I felt her put the cloth down and she rubbed it in. "OK," she says, "I need you to pull up your stomach to keep the skin tight."
I don't think I pulled my skin hard enough. She did the countdown and I held my breath. 3, 2, 1......
Every bit of me had to make sure that I didn't swing on her or try to kick her. I could feel the hairs in my head scream, for fear that they would receive the same fate. I believe there is a traveling communication system with all of the hairs in my body, they all tried to burrow themselves back into my body. Kind of the way a mans balls do when they get into the cold ocean. I think my butt hold actually puckered up. I might have tinkled a bit. I can't really remember because it was a bit of a blur. A hot, painful, ripping, torturous blur.
When the initial shock went away, the stinging set in. Dear Lord, what have I done? I've paid a woman to rip off a layer of my skin. Well, I can't stop now or I'll look like that guy from "40 Year Old Virgin." Ok, I gotta keep going, that is what my mother would have said (Mom, do we remember the phrase “the head is almost out, you can see it!” LIAR). She had her hand on the part that was ripped off and was applying "pressure." Pansy pressure but it was still pressure none the less. I pulled the towel from my eyes to see my husbands face pale but he was shaking uncontrollably with silent laughter. JERK! Later, he says he was laughing because I had done it to myself and that my face had turned a new shade of "HOLY SHIT BALLS" red...
I finally let out my breath and moved the other leg so she could do the other side, she looked at me and said I didn't have to move just yet. WHAT? "Oh, we only took off a small patch. That was the first section right here..." I looked down at my now SWOLLEN skin and I couldn't believe it... she took off the size of a thumb ... that's it. All she removed was a small patch! OH MY GOD!!! She said that the first patch is the roughest but it will numb up soon. I'm here to tell you that it NEVER numbs up. She added wax to the next section, I swear that she was adding wax o the same area, because it seemed to be hotter than before. I placed the towel back over my eye ..
RIP!!! This bitch! Hefer didn’t even give me a damn count down this time. I didn’t realize we were cool like that just yet.
Oh Jesus ... Lord help me! I can't do this. You know what, I can just shave off the rest. I can't do it, it's not worth it. ... these are all things that I should have said out loud because by the end of that last thought, she had already slapped down more wax, I could feel it dripping between my legs (remember, I got the bikini wax, not the BRAZILIAN wax.) Oh my ... 3, 2, 1 ... RIPPPP!!!
This time, I think that I clenched my jaw so hard that I might have broken a tooth. I also think that I saw a bright light behind my eye lids. I firmly believe that it was my brain trying to convince me that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Probably a part of my sub conscious begging me to stop.
I let go of my breath and pulled the towel down from my eyes. Half way done ... on half of my body. I didn't want to look like a freak so I had to go thru with the rest of it.
I threw my head back down and tried to find my happy place.
All in all, I think I might have created new curse words, I think that I have permanently scarred my husband into never letting me do this again. I do believe that at some point in the room an angel visited me. Then a second later the devil popped up, kicked the angel and placed his hot burning hand on my NO NO zone, in the form of the waxer.
I waddled out of the room, somewhat sticky and with my credit card in hand. Oh, did I forget to mention that I was wearing jeans that day? Jeans that are some what form fitting. They don’t get off allllll of the wax, so I had to relive the pain for the next few hours until we got home. Step. Stick. Rip. Ouch. Repeat... Step. Stick. Rip. Ouch... Repeat ...
I can now say that I've lived thru a bikini wax. I'm not sure if I'll ever do it again ... but I can say that I've joined the cult of women who endure much pain to look beautiful.
All in all ... F*** THAT!!!!
Comments