Originally Posted on 8/18/08
Myspace friend Chrissa recently posted a blog on her home waxing nightmare. She asked if anyone else had a nightmarish story about waxing. Yeah, well... I have my own funny nightmare of a waxing story, which I shared with her on Myspace, and figured... why the hell not. So I will subject my readers, and give you all the gift of laughter this morning.
I had gone to a nail salon in Toco Hills to get a pedi and my nails done one day, between a myriad of errands. While soaking in the foot spa chair, I looked over their list of services and noticed they do waxing. I needed by brows done, so out of sheer curiosity I asked the tech what kinds of waxing they do. Her response was, "ohhh, we wocks every-ting"
Let me clarify that this is what I call a "sheep shearing" nail salon. They herd as many folks in and out in a hour as possible. It's quantity over quality in most cases. Immigrant workers seem to be paying off their green cards and travel expenses and such... basically another form of white slavery. I genuinely feel bad for most of them. They work their assess off from open to close, 7 days a week, while struggling to grasp conversational English in a nail salon. You know the conversations. "Are you married? You got kids?" Where you work?" All the while smiling and nodding, and have no clue what you mean when you tell them you have a domestic partner or girlfriend, your pets are your kids, and that you are a paramedic for Grady EMS. I try to have patience, and tip very well for a quality job. Hey, if you can tackle feet that spent 60-70 hours a week in combat boots, and I walk out with the feet of a debutant... you get a hefty tip.
So I make arrangements with the tech for a waxing session after my toes and nails are done, and we head to the back. As I lay on the table, she is kind and gentle as she applies the warm wax and rips the stray fur from my brow ridge. It wasn't so bad. So my mind begins to think... "You've never had a bikini wax. Why not go home and surprise the girlfriend with a cute lil landing strip?" Mistake #1.
I had always prided myself on meticulous home landscaping. I have always felt it was duty and necessity when locked into a girlfriend, if not a downright courtesy. So I endured the torture of hot wax on the who-who, which unlike my brows WAS NOT CONDITIONED TO WAXING!!! Still gasping breathlessly, I could not muster the strength to inspect the quality of her work, but how hard could it be? Really? Mistake #2. But I knew it would be a nice surprise for the girlfriend.
I arrived home later that afternoon, quiet amorous and proud of the little surprise I was about to share. With a little teasing and foreplay, I told her I had a surprise for her, which lead to the bedroom. I was dumbstruck when Jordan began to cackle like a drunk and psychotic bag-lady. I demanded to know what the hell was so funny. Between rolling chuckles, my girlfriend advised me that my who-who was so reddened and irritated it looked like a baboons ass in National Geographic, and that my landing strip would cause a major airplane crash. I was aghast as I looked in the mirror. Reddened was an understatement. And my landing strip was as jagged as Harry Potter's scar, and at one point was over an inch wide.
Still chuckling at my horror and infuriation, Jordan offered to "square up" my landscaping tragedy. So, we set up all the implements: Clippers, razor, shaving cream, etc. Mistake #3.
Let me tell you about Jordan. She was a qwerky lil butch. No tact. No diplomacy. Raised by a total small-town, redneck, white trash, Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer kind of family. God bless her lil heart. But I loved her. Despite all her ill manners, inappropriate comments, and lack of decorum. Quiet simply, she was one Skoal can shy of a rodeo at times.
About half way through "the procedure" her cell phone rang with a call from our only lesbian neighbor in the entire complex. As she answered, I'm sure our friend asked, "Whatcha doin?" because at that precise moment, Jordan exclaimed with a grunt, "Shavin my ole lady's pussy!" As if my pride and dignity needed one more stab that day! Luckily for me, our friend on the other end of the phone suffered as much shock as I did, and bowed out of the phone call. I was thankful. All I needed was my girl to have distraction, lest my poor nether-regions end up looking like a freshly shot white tail deer being field dressed on the first day of hunting season.
Much to my delight, she ended up performing "full removal" procedures, which guaranteed me full access to apply soothing lotions and creams for the next few days.
So what lessons did we learn?
1. Never let a crazed overworked Asian immigrant near your genitals with hot wax.
2. When someone DOES work on you - INSPECT BEFORE YOU LEAVE
3. Never let someone offer to "fix you up", while granting them access to a phone... - or any other electronic device for that matter.
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