Saturday, September 15, 2007

Why I'm not scared anymore

Bikini waxing, along with bike riding, is one of the things I started doing Post Breakup. Both are things I had wanted to do for a while but had put off interminably because of my fear of the potential pain involved : of the searing and ripping of wax all over my most private of bits, on the one hand, and of being flattened by a car and dragged for blocks on the other. After the soul-crushing trauma of a breakup, however, I figured I had already been through the worst and decided it was time to face all of my fears head on.

Like most things, I have discovered that bikini waxing requires dedication and perseverance. Lately, I had been putting it off a little longer, and then a little longer still. Saturday, the only day I can make it to the salon, rolled around again; I woke up to rain and gray skies. Fuck it, I thought. It's not like anyone's going to see it anyway. Not helping the issue was the fact that My Waxer was out on maternity leave, so I would have to deal with Someone New. I went back and forth all day, dreading the visit, and knowing that ultimately I would feel all around better if I went. I finally forced myself to call to make an appointment, knowing that once I did I would have to go.

My Original Waxer excelled at putting me at ease, an amazing feat considering that at certain points she was eyeball to eyeball with my anus. And she did all this while managing to not put me in any outrageously awkward positions or feeling the need to show me the hair she had just removed. Not so, this time! The New Waxer had me spread-eagle, legs pointing straight in the air, as she gleefully showed me the wax strips, covered in hair. Look! she would say, with perverse pleasure. So much hair! Heh, yay, I agreed half-heartedly. Once it was over, however, I have to say the results weren't half bad. The New Waxer was able to achieve a much cleaner, more professional line than Original Waxer ever was. I feel better already, I thought.

I walked out of the salon and squinted at the bright sun. The sky, which a half hour earlier had been gray, cloudy and glum had dissolved into bright, crisp blue sunlight. I felt good, like I had a new outlook on life.

Damn, I thought. She really IS good.

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