I've often screamed at the top of my lungs about my love for the Brazilian bikini wax. It's not the pain I love, you naughty people. But, the after effects. So imagine the dismay and panic when my Brazilian Queen of Pain fell off the radar and I was without someone to tidy my lady bits. This is the same type of pain one might feel when their favorite hairdresser takes off. Hmmm...there's a bit of similarity here. Hair? I know that I have seemed obsessed with crotches lately; mine, David Lee Roth's stunt double, the girl with the frontal wedge etc. But, whattaya gonna do? I'm a bit perverse like that.
So, I'm freaking out and call the spa to see if there is someone else who can help me. This isn't like picking a new hairdresser off the floor of a salon. This person is going to be pouring lava hot wax on my Hoo Ha. I need to make sure he/she is a professional and won't scar my most favorite part of my body.
The owner of the spa assures me she has someone who is even better than the Queen of Pain. I booked an appointment and waited impatiently for the day to come. I was running a week behind on appointments and was feeling a bit like Chewbacca. I was doing the best I could not to mess with it myself. Number One rule in Brazilian Waxing: Don't shave. Do not touch it or all the years of hard work will go down the drain. Every time I showered, I looked longingly at my Venus razor.
Monday was the day and I left work early (read: 5PM, but I came back after) and beat a path down to the spa. It was at this time I met The Wax Natzi.
I'm not kidding you. This isn't a clever little nickname that I have come up with. This is the title she goes by and is PROUD if it. She is a 57 year old lady from Germany and even though she came to the USA twelve years ago, she still speaks with the thickest Germany accent. Accents are like kryptonite for me. I cannot understand them and just ordering Chinese food requires an interpreter.
Now I'm shut in a room with this women and I can only understand her when she speaks in short sentences and speaks slowly. This was going to be a long appointment.
She turns to me as she's mixing up the wax and says "Take all off"
I looked at her and said, "I'll I have to do is lift my skirt up. I don't wear underwear and these are thigh highs"
"Oh, you are sexy girl! Good Good! Get up on table"
Did she just call me sexy? Hmmm. I'm gonna mark that one down as her being European and accepting. Most people think I'm a tramp for going pantiless and wearing thigh highs and garters on an ordinary day. Hey, it makes me feel good! I'm wearing a business suit or professional outfit over it. No one knows that I'm outfitted like a cheap hooker underneath. Well, maybe a cheap hooker who shops at Victoria's Secret for classy stuff.
She starts the torture and I'm waiting for the first rip. That's usually the worst and you get use to it after that. I waited and waited; I felt movement but no pain. I peeked down and saw she was already a 1/4 of the way done. Damn this women was good! She was chatting away at top speed and I was only getting every other word or so. I'm pretty sure she was dissing the job done by the Queen of Pain. Oh well, every one's a critic. I started to tune her out until I heard this:
"You have very nice one. I see lots. You be happy with what God give you."
Okay, I'm pretty sure she just gave me a comment on my box. How do you respond to something like that? It's not like I'm with a guy and he's giving me a compliment. This is a 57 year old women who is spending more time down there than my doctor and being just as invasive. She is going places that the Queen of Pain didn't and still chatting away giving me advice.
"Every women should be Lover to her man and Whore."
Oh........My......God! What is up with this women? I'm liking how she's tending to me down south, but sex advice? This was unreal. Then she asks me the ultimate question:
"How often you and husband make a love. He like you do this, yes?"
I am staring up at her in shock. This wasn't a girlfriend or one of the guys at the office asking invasive questions. She had her hand on my cooter and was asking about my love life.
"Umm. Yeah, he likes it. We do alright." I'm all for talking about my sex life and anything else, but not when someone is doing reconnaissance on my nether regions.
"You very healthy girl. Take good care of self." she said as she was twisting me into impossible positions and getting so close to me I could feel her breath on my skin. She was attacking me with tweezers now and I was trying not to yelp in pain.
"Thank" I said between deep breaths, trying not to squirm and scream. "I try to eat well and exercise as much as possible"
She popped her head up and looked me straight in the eye, shaking the tweezers at me. "Never eat late at night. But if you do, make love for one hour after to rid calories from body"
"I'll remember that" I said. I was afraid not to agree with her. She had tweezers and I was naked from the waste down.
"Okay! I finished!" She said and grabbed a mirror. "You look"
I thought she meant for me to look at the job she did on my eyebrows. I looked and nodded my approval. It was a great job. Probably the best ever.
"No No" she took the mirror from my hands, grabbed my ankles and swung my legs over my head. "You look here. I do nice job. All perfect now, yes?"
Hello.......do I feel violated now? YES! To appease her I peeked around my legs and looked in the mirror. I was having flash backs of my junior high school years. After reading "Are You There God, It's Me Margaret" I did the mirror trick to see what everything looked like. Here I was in a spa with the Wax Natzi checking out my de-pelted beaver.
It was perfect. She did an amazing job. It only took an hour and much humiliation on my part. But, it was perfect.
I rebooked again for 3 weeks. What's a little humiliation and German sex advice to keep me from being perfect.