Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Ultimate Hair Puller
I asked the eighty-pound Asian girl applying the burning wax to my tender skin if everyone yells. She replied in her broken English.
“No, most girl do (insert a wincing, close-eyed face here). Ony you scream.”
“Are you kidding me?”
This, dare I call it, beauty treatment, minimized any other hair pulling experience I’ve ever felt. It was THE ultimate hair puller. I don’t know why I did it because I always wear a bathing suit with a little skirt that hides the forest (which I do shave regularly).
Maybe curiosity got the best of me? Or, I wish to prove that beauty really is pain?
Most of my friends submit to a bikini wax regularly, yet not one warned me how painful it would be to have hot wax applied to the outside of my privates, then ripped off, over and over and over. It hurt like hell! And then to top it off, it looked like I had a raging case of poison ivy down there AND I had to pay hard-earned money for the mild torture.
This was my first and last bikini wax, at least stone sober. If I want to have my hair pulled I will go visit my sister.