I have never made a secret of the fact that I hate dating. I don’t take any joy in the dressing up, the flirting, the awkward first date conversation. The thought of having to dip my toe back into the dating pool is less appealing than getting a rectal exam from Edward Scissorhands.
Just as many women are, I am riddled with insecurities. My thighs are too wide, my nose is too big, and I am sure that my breasts and waistline are slowly trying to become one entity. I look at men’s magazines and see what men want. I’m just not the kind of girl who looks good frolicking in a string bikini at sunset.
One of the things I hate most about dating is the “maintenance” associated with it. We’ve got to keep our skin clear, our hair nicely coiffed, and mostly importantly, our body hair to a minimum. As someone whose mustache could grow to impede my ability to breathe through my nostrils, this is no easy feat.
The most torturous of our follicle upkeep is the bikini wax. I have a pretty high threshold, but even I cannot help but wince at the idea of hot wax being ripped from my chicken mcnugget.
At one point in my life I was much more of a masochist, and kept my Virginia Woolf in check with the use of a waxer. The girl I went to at the time was amazing, but as with all great beauticians, they eventually become overbooked. I consulted the internet, and found a woman who had a slick website, and great rates.
There are some things you should never buy discounted: toilet paper, pregnancy tests, Meth, and bikini waxes. When I showed up for the appointment, I immediately knew something was off.
I walked in, and the receptionist immediately started throwing me shade.
“Who are you? We don’t take walk-in persons!”
“Uh, I’m an appointment person.”
“Tell me who you are.”
“My name is Jennifer, my birthday is November 26th, and I’m a Golden Girls addict.”
She instructed me to “sit down and wait patiently” so I did. The woman who doing the waxing eventually came out, and led me to a tiny room. She gave me a pair of paper panties, and told me she would be back to do the wax. A short while later, the pube stealer busted through the door.
“Lay down and spread your legs.”
I must note that there have only been two times in my life when someone has spoken to me this way. The first being at a gynecological appointment, and the second was the time I went on a date with Charlie Sheen.
She crouched down and began inspecting the under construction site. She gave a heavy sigh, and then began slathering extremely hot wax all over the place. Had I never had this done before, I might have thought the extreme discomfort was normal, but I knew differently.
“The wax is a little hot. Can you wipe it off?”
She craned her neck up and said, “Is there a problem?”
“Not that I’m against having third-degree burns on my vag, but it’s just not the look I’m going for today.”
She completely ignored me, and began violently ripping away the pieces of cloth. This woman must have been some kind of sadist because the more I flinched, the harder she tore.
“Hey! I don’t know if you got the memo, but that vagina kind of belongs to me. I’d like to take some of it home today.”
“I’m just trying to help you. You’re hairy.”
Now she had pissed me off. It’s one thing to destroy my anatomy, but it’s another to imply I had Don King in a headlock.
“Okay, we’re done here. For the record, I’m not that hairy. I once saw a woman in the park whose pubes were peaking out from her running shorts. It looked like she was smuggling a Chia pet in her pants. Also, you suck at this.”
She turned to me and coolly said, “Good luck getting that wax off on your own.”
I had had enough. I turned around, and was ready to bolt…except I couldn’t move because the wax had hardened. I had to resort to waddling out of there like a penguin who had been riding a Clydesdale all afternoon. Trust me, there was tons of attitude in that waddle.
Once I got home I had to use a mixture of blow drying, tugging and divine intervention to get the remaining wax off. A CSI team couldn’t have solved the crime scene between my thighs. I eventually used a blow dryer to melt the wax off, and prayed the entire time that nobody would walk in and ask me what the hell I was doing.
I haven’t gone back to a waxer since, and have concluded that bikini waxes are for pod people who feel nothing. While it was painful at the time, it helped me learn two very valuable lessons. The first being that you should always get a personal recommendation for something like that. The second, and much more practical lesson, is that gyrating in the sand while wearing a tiny bikini isn’t so bad after all.
Sips of Jen and Tonic 
Ouch. I prefer my wax in a candle . . . 🙂
I’m going to use that when someone suggest a wax.
Been there. Tried electrolysis….ONE. HAIR. AT. A. TIME with a needle inserted into each follicle and shot with electricity! For fuck’s sake, that’s painful. No more – Laser! It’s the only way to go. 🙂
I heard electrolysis sucks! My mom had one of those epiladies, and she threw it away because it was like having your fingernails ripped out.
I am so sorry for your lady bits. I must say as also a girl, I know how this situation is. May I say don’t ever try this at home. Once with the knowledge that I had no idea what I was doing. Long story short… I thought I would be darling and make a heart shape out of some personal hair…. and it ended up looking like the state of Texas. It was a lone star state fail.
My mom bought that Australian wax that you can eat because it’s so pure, and I had to scrape that off of my arm for a week.
I am very not into the removal of body hair. The look I strive for is Yeti Vogue. I highly recommend it.
“Yeti Vogue” literally made me laugh out loud. You win the internet.
Personally speaking, I’m not turned off by a fuzzy bikini line. I’m attracted to sexually-mature women, not little girls. The “Ms. Clean” look is novel, but creepy if it’s overdone, I think.
Bush Master!
You need to get “Bush Master” printed on a shirt.
It’s monogrammed on my undies. Sorry for the visual.
I will have the sweetest dreams tonight.
Until I am earning millions in the movies, I will remain hairless. Surely sooner or later there will be a place in this man’s world for Cousin It.
We need to make that happen. I could grow a ZZ Top beard easily.
Oh, Jen, what a horror story! I was someone’s first time once and that didn’t go too well! I thought I might have to do the wax myself which just wasn’t going to happen either! I just wrote about this, too, in a more indirect kind of way. It seems to be on everyone’s mind. It’s become so mainstream I think. Sorry you had such a bad experience.
Oh yeah, everywhere you turn there are advertisements for waxing, laser, etc. It’s insane. This is why I don’t belong in the dating pool. I refuse to comply.
I’m so sorry that happened to you. Funny enough, I just wrote about waxing too (face and nug waxing). At 34 I tried it downstairs for the first time ever. Thankfully, I got someone good and had a decent, fairly pain free experience with it. The face wax I did was actually the more humiliating of the two.
Anyway, I frickin love your stories!
Face waxing is humiliating, I agree. There’s something about seeing twenty pounds of hair being ripped from the chin area that makes you feel like crap.
Ouch – I would never get that done – it would be rash city in two minutes flat.
Yeah, it’s NOT fun at all. I have sensitive skin, and it was puffed up like rice cereal for two weeks.
and the extra yanking and blow dryer were especially helpful too, I bet.
I could never do the bikini – or god forbid, Brazillian – wax. For some reason hot wax and soft ladybits do not go hand in hand. I’ll stick to my good old fashioned razors. Stubble I can deal with – 3rd degree burns? Oh hell no! (And for the record, unless HE does manscaping, you should not be expected to be fully groomed, either. But that’s just me.)
I’m with you on that one. Although, I do know someone who cut her vagina with a razor and had to go to the doctor when it got infected.
You are perfect! Your words tell me everything about you.
You must really like hairy women. I like that in a man.
As the Bee Gee’s once sang… Lonely days Lonely nights… Where would I be without my hairy woman!
Throwback! I love it.
Your Virginia Woolf!!!HAHAHAHA
Try Sugar Laboratories on NE Broadway. They’re good. I mean if you are into that.
I’ve heard good things about them. I do need someone to keep my face from getting Wolverine-ish so I’ll have a looksie.
Oh, and I owe you an e-mail!
OMG you had me in stitches one second, wincing the next. I was right there with you the entire time. One of the benefits of carrying a bit of extra weight for the past few decades, is that bikinis are not an option for me. In fact, these days I wear one of those bathing suit dresses, ala 1920’s. No waxing or shaving for me except below the knee. (I know, TMI).
Because I don’t actively date, I only shave below the knee as well. And I only do that because I’m afraid of tearing up my sheets with my stubble.
Argh. Remind me to never get waxed 😦 that sounds awful.
Not all waxes are bad. Without a waxer I’d only have one eyebrow. You just need a GREAT one.
Thank you for this. This was the equivalent of a tent revival, renewing my commitment to stay away from temptation. I will remain chaste from the waxer forever now.
I’ve had these moments too. Like when I think I’ll give spray tans one more try, and then I look like someone slapped me with a melting carrot.
Waxing is not my chosen method of hair removal, and this is exactly why. Ms. Meowmington demands respect.
Ms. Meowmington?! Brilliant.
This was brilliantly funny Jen- thanks for making mid-week so much better!
You’re always welcome! XO!
First, don’t ever take a men’s magazine’s advice on anything. Secondly….you had a date with Charlie Sheen? You better get tested.
No, I was too busy dating Hasselhoff to make time for Sheen.
I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.
I don’t want to dip my toes in the dating pool either. I don’t think the pool boy has been there for several years, and the festering toxins in that water are not worth the risk.
I hate everything about dating. I should write a post about that because I could go on forever about why it blows.
As you know, I am your sister in hirsuteness. I get waxed regularly because to do otherwise is to have difficulty telling my legs from those of Mr. Weebles. It’s a look that works for him, not so much for me. But sweet fuck, if anyone ever treated me the way that broad treated you, she would have gotten a face full of hot wax. Nasty sadistic bitch. I hope you complained to the manager. Even my gynecologist starts with a little more foreplay than that.
Hairy chicks solidarity!
I couldn’t complain to the manager because she WAS the manager. It’s just so awkward to lay down in front of an aggressive, mean spirited stranger who has your ovaries in the palm of her hand.
I suppose that’s true.
Hmm, this may be one area where I’m relieved to be in the older-married-woman demographic…
You mean you don’t want to switch places with me?!
Not after reading this… 😉
I guess I am super defiant in this regard. It’s the media that has taught us that we need to wax, bleach, surgically perfect our vaginas. It is not a natural thing at all. I don’t think we should have to torture ourselves to be attractive. If you said to a man that he needed to bikini wax, and wax his butt crack to get laid… what do you think his response would be? $#!$%$#@$ I’m sure! Just sayin. If hair grows there it is supposed to be there… end of story. I think there are plenty of guys out there that still like real (un-altered women) and I think that there is a perfect guy for you out there and I suspect given what I know about you.. that he won’t be someone who would expect you to be something you are not. For the record I have never bikini waxed and have had 2 long term hetero relationships. Not all guys are assholes with outrageous expectations. 🙂
I was in my early 20’s, and I come from a generation that made the Brazilian popular. I wouldn’t say there was any pressure from anyone in particular, just what I was seeing and hearing. I do love the art of shaving because some parts just feel nice when they’re smoother (for me that is) but there needs to be a line in the sand.
🙂
Ouch, on many levels!
You have no idea…
Girls frolicking on the beach always look good.
(It’s the smiles that do it.)
(Bikinis optional.)
Seriously, the smiles really do make the frolic.
Note to self: smile a lot while jumping up and down.
That’s asking a lot. Keeping my breasts from blackening my eye, skipping, smiling…why don’t I spin plates on my fingertips while I’m at it?
Can you do that while riding a unicycle
Because that would be cool!
I don’t know, but I will try. Maybe YouTube it.
If someone had walked in, the only reasonable attitude to take would have been defiant, mystified indignance. “What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’? OBVIOUSLY, I am blow drying the industrial sealant encasing my under-carriage. And your problem with that lies WHERE?”
What he said.
I am hiring you to handle all of my personal affairs going forward.
YES.