I decided to go to a different place to get a wax yesterday due to an unbeatable Groupon deal: $19 for one Brazilian wax in Beverly Hills. FUCKING SWEET! When the cost of such usually goes for about $65, you couldn’t fucking beat that. Besides, it’s in Beverly Hills…how bad could it be?!
After reading an EXTREME mix of yelp reviews, ranging from “OH MY GOD NO DON’T BE FOOLED BY THIS GROUPON DEAL!!!!” to “HOLY SHIT BEST WAXING JOB EVER I’M NEVER GOING ANYWHERE ELSE AGAIN BEST GROUPON DEAL EVER!!!”, I decided to take matters into my own hands and check it out myself; I’ll try just about anything once.
Arriving about 5 minutes late due to my idiocy in scheduling a wax during the lunch rush hour, I scurried in shooting apologies out my ass, especially after reading that this woman was a neo-nazi when it came to people being late. Offering up a forgiving, warm-hearted smile, the 60-year-old Indian woman demanded that it was all right and that I just follow her into the next room, as her mangled shabby-looking dog Benji followed behind. What the fuck? You have a dog in here? I tip-toed away from the dirty white maltipoo, covering my vagina in worry as I pictured little maltipoo hair and poo anywhere NEAR my nether regions for such an intimate procedure. Oh gross man…
Once we got to the room, she shooed the dog away. Whew thank God. When I normally get into this room, the waxer (is that what you call them) usually gives me some time alone to take off my clothes and get on the table. Instead, this grandma of an Indian lady, as lovingly adorable as she looked, stared directly at me and, in a SUPER THICK Indian accent, pointed and instructed, “YOU! TAKE OFF CLOTHES!” as she crossed her arms and watched and waited. “Oooh…umm…OK!” I shrugged as I stared RIGHT BACK at her and undid my pants and threw them off, hot pink polka-dot thong following right behind. No way I was letting this bitch intimidate me; it’s already bad enough I’m about to be spread eagle on a table with her mauling my muff with hot wax.
It wasn’t as painful as usual, and I will say that the conversation we had was really great; she was a rather warm and funny lady with her stories of crazy celebrity waxes gone awry (none of which she would release the names); she was such a sweet woman that this very well may have been the reason I didn’t feel pain. When the time came for her to do my back-door hoo hoo, I proceeded to turn around to get on all fours AS USUAL. She immediately stopped me and said, “No, no, no Miss. Just lay back…” as she took BOTH of my legs and proceeded to position them as far back behind my head as possible in a pretzel position. WHOA WHOA WHOA MA’AM! I only do this after about 6 or 7 dates, and I’ve usually had about 6 or 7 shots of Patron to go along with it, Lady!!!! Trusting her old, experienced waxer ass, I decided to just sit back and let her wax my ass.
When all was done, she took out some FOUL smelling Asian balm and proceeded to douse my va-jay in it, rubbing vigorously as if to get me off, insisting that, “OOoooooh! You will like dis! It is an herbal remedy cooling lotion! Feel bery bery good!” The shit felt all right at first, but within SECONDS, my vagina began to BURN with FURY, feeling like I’d just shoved it in an oven to set it and forget it. AAAHHHH!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! FUUUUCK IT BURNS!!!!! Wanting to now get out of there as fast as possible, I paid her and explained that I’d schedule the next appointment online, as I frantically shimmied and scurried out of there, holding onto my burning burning BURNING HOT vagina for dear life as I hopped and jumped down Rodeo Drive, past the rich, bougie, lunching elite, and into my fucking car. Turning it on as fast as I could and RIPPING off my pants and thong as FAST as I could, I BLASTED the air conditioning as high as I could and THRUST my crotch at the vents, finally letting out a long AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH of relief as I sat in my parked car with my bare, newly-Brazilianed, HEAVILY burning baby girl lifted high onto and against my air conditioner, with people passing and gasping in shock. Yeah, mother fuckers, it’s THAT SERIOUS. To make matters worse, it smelled like week-old Lo-mein down there. What the FUCK did she do to me?! Ugh who’s gonna put their fuckin face in this now?! It smells and feels like she just smothered my vagina in a steeming-hot stir-fry vegetable mix! As I sit here and type this now in my terrycloth robe, I actually have a bag of frozen vegetables laying ever-so-lovingly in my lap, as it is still in uber amounts of pain from yesterday.
Lesson learned: Nice bedside manner does not make up for a not-so-nice burning muff.