I’m going to start this by saying if you’re somebody who believes your partner’s perfectly coiffeured lady garden or manscape naturally grows (or doesn’t appear to grow) in the pretty shape you see, then stop reading now. If your my brother, you probably won’t wanna read this either!
For the rest of us, who live in the real world of plucking and waxing, please read on.
I dunno what possessed me Friday, to go and have a bikini wax. I mean I’ve had them before, they’re not fun. Maybe it’s the hot weather, tricking my brain into falsely preparing for a holiday I’m not going on…I dunno, I normally just DIY it with a tube of Veet at home. (I tried home waxing once. NOT.WORTH.THE.SAVING! First strip was manageable but forget about it after that, your brain now knows the pain you’re about to inflict on YOURSELF again and won’t allow it. The wax then starts drying, making it harder to pull off ensuing in an even more painful, slightly bloodier experience.) Anyway, I normally go a little bit out of my area, I don’t need anybody I’m likely to run into at the nursery knowing what my lady bits look like. Plus the place I normally go to, in the grand scheme of waxing one’s nether regions, is amazing. However, these precious couple of child free hours are hard to come by (and no it’s not a 2hr job to cultivate my booosh, smart ass!) so I thought I’d chance a local salon……..
I notice as I walk in the door, there’s a special on “The Hollywood” today…hmm…no thanks, not my style. Now although the salon is full of ladies getting primped and preened, I still don’t feel comfortable shouting “hey-ay, I wanna get me fananny waxed please” over the hum of the hair dryer, so I just mumble an answer to the lady asking. Who in turn, very loudly relays that I’m here for a hollywood to her co-worker. I’m not but we can discuss styling once I’m not standing in the bloody doorway.
Said co-worker…we’ll call her Tina, for handiness sake, beckoned me to follow. I explain I’d just like a brazilian. Brazil’s always appealed to me more than Hollywood anyway. In Irish terms, your one basically says, “grand job, no bother, drop your knickers and hop up there like a flattened buddha”, and so I do. Now since attending the non-local Mecca of waxing, I’ve been forever seeking the local version annnnd I’m still currently searching, everything is compared to them. Tina has assured me she’s great at what she does, with people complimenting her on how little pain she causes, she even waxes pretty much all of her own body herself. Grand job Tina…but we shall see. She started at the top of my thigh, first strip off, it wasn’t to bad….now if you’re a beautician and there is some sort of order that mingeinas should be stripped in, then forgive me, Tina may very well have followed that order but it’s all a painful, breath holding blur to me. Unfortunately I don’t have solid upper thighs, shur listen we can’t all be perfect, and I’m no expert and I feel like Tina isn’t either, cos she is just ripping those wax strips off my inner thighs like annoying wall paper off a wall. I suggest to her that I should hold my thighs taut…lord jayzus, I’m clearly the guru here lads. Maybe it’s the fact that she feels like she shouldn’t be at work today as she’s just started her period and her tum and back are killing her. In fairness if I felt like this and had to come to work do defluff somebody else’s foof, the same thing that’s causing pain in me, then I’d probably give it a going over meself! She then has the cop on to ask me to hold my Mum-tum (why are these so hard to get rid of??) taut and attacks there…a small mercy I suppose.
Now, now…now the fun really gets going…Tina pops her head up and says “oh, I’m sorry, I forgot”. Huh? Yep…she’s only gone and scalped the lot! FFS!! She’s kinda looking at me as if to say, what will I do…she may even have telepathically asked me the question. Shur what the jayzus could she do? Stick it back on? The look I gave her said that, but my mouth betrayed me and said ah, shur what can you do, it’ll be fine! Don’t worry she says, I’ll give you Hollywood at no extra cost. Oh jee…fcuking thanks love, was the look I shot her but my mouth once again betrayed me and said “ah don’t worry I’ll pay for it!” DAM YOU MOUTH!!! I swear to God the non-local place must put some sort of calming, numbing gas in their air con cos I really don’t remember this happening…or maybe this is how the Hollywood goes….I actually really thought she was gonna give me an internal exam at one point and she most certainly burned the barn doors twice…despite me wincing and saying “wow, that’s hot!”. There was a knock on the door then, how long will you be Tina? Ten minutes. Ten minutes!!! Ten FECKING minutes…ah listen T, leave me be, I’ll make like a baby hedgehog suffering alopecia and leave. Thankfully though, after a rather close head-almost-in-my-vajayjay- inspection Tina seems happy enough and starts slathering on cream followed by clouds of talc. Oh thank God for small mercies, I go to get up. I’m not sure how it happend or how she managed it but as she’s saying turn over to me, she’s kinda managed to flip me like a burger onto my tum!! WTF IS GOING ON??? Yeah lads, shur didn’t I forget, I was upgraded to the Hollywood!! FML!
I’d just like to add, on later inspection, I’m pretty sure Tina removed skin in places, she IS not from Mecca Minge Defluffers and sadly is unlikely to ever make the grade. On a happier note my hoo ha is feeling alot happier now the whole ordeal is behind it….haa behind it!
The things we do to be fluff free!!
Love Donna x