About the only thing more awkward than getting a down there wax is talking about it so, hello, welcome to my blog, you should know better by now. What? You think it's tacky to discuss ladyscaping in a public forum? Try carrying on a full-blown conversation with your wax girl while she's all up in your lady cave ripping tiny little hairs off of you for money.
There are two major issues on the table (ahem) here. 1. The fact that you're trying to have a conversation AT ALL with someone who is staring into your babymaker and, 2. Trying to keep your voice at a consistant tone when she rips that strip off of you. If you were a man, your testicles would have just rescinded right on up in ya because: HOLY HELL.
"So, you moved?" she asks as she nonchalantly applies hot wax and a strip.
"Yeah, I just moved into a new pla--AAAAAY-ce [loud breath] um, over by the park."
"Oh really? What's it called?" She applies more wax, another strip and ignores your watering eyes.
"It's Sweetwater SpRIIIIIIINGs." Your left leg kicks involuntarily.
"No way!" she's way too emphatic about this news as she continues killing you slowly, hair by hair. "We live in that same complex!"
"Oh. Wow. That's OWWWWWW. I mean, cool. That's cool." My mascara runs down my cheek.
"Sorry. Did that hurt?"
"Um. A little?"
No, it didn't hurt a little; it hurt like mad. Like I must have been MAD to think this was a good idea. Like, I'm MAD at myself for paying money for pain. It made me want to stop halfway through and try convince the world that the whole Flock of Seagulls hair cut finally made its way down south.
In the few lulls in conversation I find myself desperately seeking new topics to talk about - anything to distract me from the unpleasantness. But nothing comes to mind. Well, nothing appropriate. It's probably not right to talk about her job. "So? Vaginas, huh?" And food is out of the question because... well, ew.
"So. You like your apartment?" It's all I've got.
Two thousand rips later and I'm certain my ab and thigh muscles have had the best workout of their life AND I've learned that while I have only lived in my new place a whoppin' two weeks, someone here has already seen my ladyparts. Like, upclose and personal. Well that took less time than expected.