Friday, December 4, 2009

My Waxing Hurts

There is a Too Much Information Warning on this post. If you are related to me, don't read this.

So - going to the beach this weekend, obviously needed a light wax before donning bikini. Decided to try out this new place down the road from me.

After being kept waiting for 20 mins my waxer finally swoops into waiting room with 5 year old son in tow. Apparently son had been coughing and vomiting at Kindy so he had to be picked up. Fair enough. Kid is sick. Okay excuse. She ushers me into a white room with a bed. It is quite serene, there is rainforest music playing. I lie on bed and think it might not be all that bad afterall.

THEN waxer comes into room WITH HER SON. He is CRYING and whinging and generally yelling about how he wants to go home. She puts him on a seat right next to my head (oh my god what if he vomits again!) and then lifts up my skirt and starts yanking my underwear this way and that. I lie there, frozen in horror as I realise there is a strange sick child watching my nether regions get waxed. I'm not sure who is going to be more scarred by the experience - me or him. Though he did seem quite fascinated by the whole thing because he shut up when she started tearing the wax off my dainty skin. I bet he enjoyed watching my pain, the sick bastard.

And if that wasn't enough, about half way through the first leg my waxer gets a phone call. She says "Oh that will be my broker" as if it's completely acceptable to take a call during a waxing as long as it's her broker. She gets the phone and starts yabbering away, now waxing me one-handed. It's disconcerting having hot wax slapped on you at the best of times and particularly when the person doing the slapping is only using one hand and half a brain.

In the end it only cost $20 and I kept all my important bits, so I guess the only real damage is mental.

Traumatic traumatic experience.

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