Brazilian Wax From Hell..

Now, I'm a waxee from way back. Triangles, heart shapes, landing strips, lightning bolts-you name it- I've been there done that in the world of pubic manicures. Russians, Koreans, Chinese, I've had waxes from all the groups in the biz. I personally prefer Russian facilities, because they're typically of a higher tier. Unfortunately, I've found that they also typically tend to be more um.. racially particular if you get my drift. I don't care though. Just rip my hair out then I'M out.

With my latest Brazilian wax, I have some good news and some bad news.

The bad news is I had the most painful wax I've ever had in the history of my life the other day.

The good news is it didn't take very long before I could sit again. :-/

What should have been this:

 

Was more like this:

I walked into the room, anxious but ready. Brazilian waxes are never a cake walk, but I've never needed a shot of tequila afterwards. I get undressed, freezing cold floor beneath my feet (every thing's freezing cold when you have on no shoes, socks or panties). I lie down, and stare at the bright florescent lights in the ceiling. I imagined faces out of shapes in the walls. I listened to the sound of waves they had playing. I tried to use anything as a distraction from the pain I knew was coming. The waxer knocked on the door to see if I was ready, then walked in swiftly like an executioner.

My gut told me I was in for something. This lady was about to Tear. Me. UP! I thought about leaving but I came to my senses. I was there already and undressed. I mean, my undies were folded neatly in a chair, what was the matter with me? The clock was ticking for my Caribbean vacation. I didn't have time for wimping out. No time to go elsewhere. No time for anything but getting my wax and getting on home to finish packing. Besides, I'd been there before. Not with HER but the other lady I used to go to did a pretty good job. What the heck, right?

WRONG.

She came over to the table. While she surveyed my "area.."

I bit my nails.

"Joo haf toof hair," she said, Russian accent spilling. I thought to myself, "Hell yeah I have tough hair. I'ma tough chick, heh heh.."

WRONG.

What she was really doing was warning me.

I was completely unprepared for her methods of trying to win the battle against my "toof hair." What made the waxing extra painful was not the actual wax, but that she kept applying it on the SAME FUCKING SPOT.

"I must geet roots," she kept telling me. Every time she pulled some hair off she would show me, "Joo see? Joo see ROOT?"

Yes bitch, I see root. The question is,

"DO JOO SEE SKEEN?"

I lay there in agony, trying to remember to breathe, count to 10, memories of riding my bike at 7, ANYTHING to get my mind off the pain. I was convinced she had pulled off flesh. I finally got up. I told her to just stop, and whatever hair she didn't get was coming home with me. She looked perplexed because although I was in hell, I didn't make a peep. I didn't scream out in pain. I took it like a man. A Brazilian one. :)

My perty lil bulb of poom poom developed various red spots. I'm pretty sure they spelled out "OUCH!" Needless to say I won't be back there. From now on, I'll quit being cheap and spend the extra 10-15 bucks on sugaring. I cannot go through that pain again. At the end of the day, I did get the look I wanted which was..

But if i hadn't told her to stop, could've been this:

And last, I'll say it could've been so much worse. As sensitive as labia are, it would've been more painful if they were testicles..

 

I feel for any guys who get waxed. I know my 'ouch' can't begin to compare to yours..

Now back to the Olympics..