When I arrived, the receptionist suggested I purchase numbing cream to put on before the procedure. Shit just got serious. Numbing cream? I get my eyebrows waxed, and occasionally my lip, and never have I had to put a numbing cream on. She must have smelled my fear and knew it would be an easy sale. So, I purchased the $10 cream and followed her back to the procedure room.
I looked around the room and felt instantly comforted. The lights were low, there was soft, soothing spa music on in the background and candles burning.
I peeled off my jeans, folded them, placed them on the chair in the corner of the room, and positioned myself on the bed under the sheet. I suddenly remembered about the cream, so I jumped up and grabbed the tube. I squeezed some out and tried spread it out "down there". Have you ever tried to rub cream into a body part with hair? Imagine rubbing sunscreen onto a silver back gorilla. I did the best I could and hopped back up on the table hoping that the chunks of cream would somehow have dissolved by the time the waxologist came in. (Yes, I know that isn't a real word. No, I don't care.)
Moments later there was a gentle knock on the door and in walked an extremely pregnant woman. She introduced herself and asked if I was ready to get started.
"As ready as I'll ever be" I mumbled, as I lied my head down on the table.
She slowly peeled the sheet back and asked "Is this your first waxing?"
Oh god, was it that obvious?
"Um, yes, it is."
"When you called to make the appointment, did the receptionist advise you to trim?"
"Um, no, she didn't."
"We usually advise our clients to trim their hair to about a quarter of an inch, leaving enough for the wax to grab on to. If it is too long it doesn't get it all in one go. We end up having to reapply wax, which can start to get a little uncomfortable."
"Sorry about that. I usually keep it much more groomed but haven't done much in the last couple of weeks because I knew I was coming here."
She could sense my embarrassment.
"I'll trim it for you, if that's OK?"
"Oh, that's fine. Thank you. Sorry."
She pulled the sheet all the way back and flipped on the most blinding light ever. It was similar to the light the OB shines on you in the delivery room.
"Did put some sort of cream on?"
"Oh, yes, the receptionist recommended I put on numbing cream. It didn't absorb very well, I guess because of all the extra hair down there."
"I'll wipe it off."
This was getting more awkward with every passing moment.
After cleaning me up and trimming me down, she started on the actual waxing. I thought I was prepared for what was about to take place as I get my eyebrows waxed. I didn't think about the fact that the area being waxed was not only bigger than my eyebrows, but also more sensitive.
The waxologist smoothed on the warm wax, Covered it with a strip of cloth, rubbed her hand over the material and then asked me to hold my hand above the hairline and pull up so the skin was tight.
What? I have to participate in this? Aren't I just supposed to lie here and have this done to me?
"Are you OK?" She asked.
"Yep. Fine." I managed to murmur as the tears built up in my eyes.
After a couple of minutes and a few now-pull-tight-in-this-direction's, we were finished.
Or so I thought.
"OK, now just roll on your side for me and lift up your butt cheek."
LIFT UP MY BUTT CHEEK?? What in the world was she talking about? There's hair BACK THERE??
I rolled over and lifted up my left cheek. If you ever need to torture someone by humiliation, send them for a Brazilian bikini wax. Exposing your butthole like that to a complete stranger will definitely make someone blush.
Finally she was finished. She gave me some tips on staying comfortable, such as applying an ice-pack to help with the pain and swelling. Pain and swelling? Seriously? Sweet baby cheeses! What had I done to myself?
I lied there for a few moments, slightly dizzy and lightheaded from what had just taken place. I could feel myself sweating. It was suddenly very hot in that room. The heat was coming from "down there". Holy hell it felt like the fire of Hades was burning in my crotch.
I lifted myself off the table and looked at my jeans, wishing I had worn a skirt or yoga pants instead. I decided to take the ripping off a bandaid approach and pulled them on without a thought. It wasn't too bad, until I started walking and that hard, rough seam that runs down the front and back up the seat of the jeans started rubbing my already on fire, throbbing hoo-ha.
After I got home I took out a zip-loc bag, filled it with ice, wrapped it in a dishcloth and sat on my bed hoping for some relief.
In all honesty, by that evening, the pain was gone and I never experienced any swelling - thank god!
Let me just say, getting a Brazilian wax is sort of like childbirth. It hurts like hell at the time, but as time passes the memory of the extent of the pain somehow begins to dissipate.
I have had a few more since that first, harrowing experience, and if I'm honest, I would go every 3-5 weeks like they suggest. But that shit is expensive and as a SAHM to 5 kids, (3 full-time, 2 part-time) including a 13 month old, ain't nobody got time for that.
So there is my awkward moment. Have you braved the Brazilian wax a la Carrie from Sex and the City?