Bad Kitty

Why do I subject myself to the pain and humiliation that is the Brazilian bikini wax?  Sure I don’t want any unsightly hairs peeking out of the bathing suit (the specter of me in a bathing suit is unsightly enough). And I don’t want my husband to be turned off by the bush. But? Even if I never had to put on a bathing suit again in my life and I was single, I would do the hair removal maintenance. Why? Because I hate the freaking hair! HATE IT.

I’m of Eastern European descent and my people are a hairy bunch, so I have an over abundance of body hair. TMI, but deal. So there I lay (lie? English majors and grammar experts, help me out) on the table with my legs in the “frog position” while some poor girl waxes and wanes for what seems like an eternity. She apologizing to me, me feeling like the one who should apologize. And give a 50% tip.  And of course the poor girl is always some skinny blond thing with Norwegian genes and little to know visible body hair. Which, I am positive extends to her nether regions.

I really miss Pretty Kitty. If you live in San Diego and you like your kitty bare, you must check it out. They get the job done in 10 relatively painless minutes. I should have made an appointment there, but was too lazy to drive when I could just have it done at the hotel spa.  If I had a flat, tight stomach I might not feel quite so humiliated. Although, I gotta think it’s hard for any woman not to feel humiliated flat on her back with her legs flat, knees out and feet bottoms touching while some other woman pulls her apart and puts hot wax on all her dainty bits and then rips it off. Yeah. But still. A tight stomach to pull taught would be so much better than a gigantic bowl of Jello.