Hair today, gone tomorrow

Ok, people! Just tack a sign on my back that reads "Kelly is an idiot." Can you believe that I thought a brazilian bikini wax was only going to hurt a little more than getting my eyebrows waxed? Correction. Let's have that sign say "Kelly is a FUCKING idiot."

It hurt. A lot. But, no lie... I was laying there as my poor pubes were being ripped from my body, and I was thinking that I couldn't wait to blog about it. I am such a freak. But at least that kept me going, or I might have jumped up and ran out without even finishing. "Yes, hubby, that's what a Brazilian is supposed to look like. Hair's only removed on one side."

I don't even know where to start. Ok, the beginning. I go into the salon and meet a very nice esthetician named Cara. She's bubbly and friendly and informs me that she's done a "zillion" of brazilian waxes before.

"Do they hurt really bad?" I ask. ((Stupid, stupid girl.))

"Well, it's not a picnic. So I won't mind if you scream a little," Cara breezily replies.

((Fuck.))

We go into a small room with a table and Cara explains that I need to take off my shorts and underwear. She mentions that they have disposable underwear that I could put on, but she doesn't like to bother with it because she's going to "see everything anyway, so what's the big deal?"

Cara leaves the room while I pull off my shorts. If I had balls, I'd be experiencing a major case of shrinkage right now because I'm getting scared. I lay on the table and position myself under the sheet, like you would during a massage.

Cara comes back and laughs. "No, girl, you don't get to lie under the sheet. Get on top, because I need to see it all!" So I have to hoist my bare ass out from under the sheet and on top of the table while Cara watches. She doesn't seem fazed, and gets to work, applying oil to my nether regions with her bare hands.

(If only my husband were here, he'd be loving this right now)

I try furiously to forget that this woman is staring at my hoo-ha. To Cara's credit, she explains that it's no big deal and that she does this every day. I wonder how my hoo-ha shapes up compared to all the other ones, but there's no fricking way I would ever ask.

"Okay," Cara says. "Let's bring on the wax!"

The wax feels nice when it's being applied. Nice and warm, soothing. She starts by working on the front. The more intimate spots will come later. The wax only takes a minute to dry and now Cara is ready to pull. "This section on top is going to hurt the most," she warns.

And then, she yanks.

I see stars. My legs clench. And I let loose with a "Fuck! That hurrrrrts!"

It's over fast, but that few seconds of pain is white-hot. I start to relax as the burn subsides, and then I remember. She's only done one strip. And there's a lot of hair left down there.

Cara moves on with the wax. I realize too late that she's applied wax to the entire front of me. Now, I thought that a brazilian wax left a landing strip, like you'd see in Playboy. But I suppose Cara's definition of brazilian was to take it all off, baby. That's right... ALL of it. Brr, it's getting chilly down there.

The next minutes are sort of a blur as Cara applies wax and then rips it off. The worst part is the anticipation... when you know that your poor little innocent hair follicles are about to be torn from their happy home. "Hey, we're just a few poor little pubes trying to make a living down here. Are we really THAT offensive?"

Thankfully, Cara finishes the front, and issues her next order. "Okay, you need to spread your legs. I need to be able to really get in there." Fucking mortifying. But I listen and open up. Then Cara explains why she needs the extra room. She doesn't want to get any hot wax on the "little man in the boat." Neither do I, Cara. Neither do I.

This experience between my legs is no less pleasurable than the front had been. The only blessing was that there was a little less area to cover, and that meant fewer rips and less moaning from me. But we weren't done yet.

"You have a choice, now," Cara explains. "We need to get inside your butt cheeks so you can either get on all fours, or pull your legs back over your head so I can spread 'em."

Since I only do doggystyle for my husband (and I actually told Cara that) I opted to pull my legs back over my head. This was not my most stellar moment, kids. It's not possible to do this with much grace. Then I learn that Cara is going to apply the hot wax along the insides of my butt cheeks and over the hole. You know what hole. Meanwhile, I can't stop the chant running through my head, all sing-song-like: You're a fucking idiot... you're a fucking idiot...

Surprisingly, the ass is less sensitive than the other parts. Although it wasn't a picnic, I didn't even whimper during that part. And then... praise Jeebus and Hallelujah! It was OVER. I got to put my legs down. And pants! I got to cover up my vah jay jay again! And I got to fork over 60 bucks for 45 minutes of torture! Yay!

So you ask: Am I happy with the results? Yes. Would I do it again? Now that I know how it feels, I just can't say. Maybe when it starts to grow again in a few weeks I will have a better idea.

Oh, and will I show you a picture of the final product? What, are you freaking crazy? Perverts.