There is no intimacy like the intimacy you have with yourself in the shower before going to get a Brazilian wax.
This past week I went to get my first wax since high school after my faithful friend Tricia convinced me it was worth a trip to her place, European Wax, before I headed to Cuba for a week with the man candy. I had selectively forgotten my first waxing experience and let myself be lulled into a sense of safety thinking about how smooth and carefree I could be all week while traipsing around the Cuban countryside (read: Havana, Trinidad & Varadero).
The morning of my waxing date I had my intimate shower experience with myself, with an internal dialogue that went something like this:
Lauren, it’s going to be fine. You are a champion. No, you haven’t gotten a wax since like high school, but the good news is that you’re impervious to pain now (lies)! So, you won’t even notice (further lies)! You need to be smooth for this trip, it will be worth it. This woman is a professional, I’m sure she sees 100 vaginas a day, you aren’t special. This isn’t a thing. Calm down. *internal stress levels rising*
COMPLETELY NORMAL, RIGHT?
Flash forward to me laying on the table as my waxing woman (WW – which could also stand for wing woman, because this woman is helping me out there too) tells me to do the “butterfly” and I briefly feel like an idiot when she has to explain to me what that his (hint feet together, knees out).
I dive headfirst into live texting the experience to my best friend, Erica:
Me: Wax time
Me: Might die
Erica: May the odds be ever in your favor
Me: Why did I decide to do this?
Erica: It’ll be worth it
Me: There is currently hot wax on my vag
Me: Send help!
Erica: I’m always glad when it’s over
Erica: Be strong
Me: I hope you’re appreciating this live commentary
Erica: You should live tweet this
Erica: Loving it, cracking up laughing
Me: I may not have a left vagina lip left
Me: Pretty sure it just got ripped off
Me: How is this woman so calm?
Me: Also, how many vaginas has she seen?
Erica: Ask her
Me: She says se sees around 25 per day
Me: That’s a lot of lady parts
Me: She just told me I have barely any hair in my butt? How the hell do I respond to that?
Suffice to say, the experience was wildly exhilarating and sharply ouchy and I might have been nervous sweating. I’m not saying I was, but I’m certainly not saying I wasn’t either.
The moral of the story here? It was really actually fine. I mean don’t get me wrong it’s definitely not my preferred way to spend time – who in the world enjoys having hairs ripped out of their body? But I did go ahead and schedule my next appointment, so that’s a level of commitment that I do not often display.
Smooth sailing ahead for Cuba, aren’t you proud?