Well, I listened to everybody’s advice and visited a spa for a bikini wax.
Wow. I had no idea.
Yes, the waxing hurt like a $#@! but I figure if I can’t handle a few hairs being plucked out, then I’ll never make it through labor and an episiotomy. What amazed me was the overall spa experience. It was pretty magical. I guess I just had never been to a real spa before. I didn’t realize how special they make you feel.
When I got there I was early and as I was perusing the many products that they have to sell in the lobby, a technician came up to me and touched my arm in that mothering way that some people have. It’s like they just ooze caring and love out of their pores or something. These kind of people make me cry. I once had a yoga instructor who could make me cry just by re-adjusting my body to help me get in a pose correctly. Maybe I’m starved for physical contact. I hate to admit that but maybe it’s the truth. And nobody better say anything about that being Toby’s job because I am officially declaring that subject off limits. No offense to anybody suggesting Toby put lotion on my legs. I got a good laugh out of that one.
After I checked in, another technician took me back to the “quiet room”. The “quiet room” is a smallish room with bronze colored gauzy curtains hung on the walls. The only light sources are some very dim wall lamps and a collection of electronic flickering candles in the faux fireplace. Except the faux fireplace doesn’t look very faux because the light it so low you don’t really notice that it’s just made out of a mantle and some fake tile. In fact the lighting is so low that you forget you are actually in a strip-mall box of a room that they have converted into this magical shrine to relaxation.
There is music playing from everywhere and birds sing quietly. On a counter nearby is a sweating pitcher of ice water with cucumber slices floating in it. Above the mantle is a painting of a woman sitting on a bench with her head bent over her lap and onto the seat beside her. She looks like she’s sleeping. There are flowers in her hand and petals falling to the ground. I must have stared at that painting for ten minutes or more trying to figure out how she could look so relaxed in such an awkward position. Whatever it was, it made me feel relaxed too. I took off my high heeled clogs and let my smelly feet air out on the soft ottoman in front of my chair. I even noticed a box of tissue beside me. What’s that for? Will there be a shrink session too and I’ll really have a good cry? And then I scolded myself for thinking such a silly thing. The tissue is probably for wiping wax off your various body parts or cleaning out your ears or something. I realized that I spend way too much time thinking about things and not relaxing. I mean, who notices that the faux fireplace is not a real fireplace? Sheesh. It must be my super stealth spying skills. Sometimes I just spend way too much time looking at things.
I closed my eyes and took in a few deep breaths.
And then it was time for my bikini wax. A tall woman with stubby blonde pigtails called my name and lead me into another dimly lit room with the same piped in bird music. She gave me some paper panties and told me not to be nervous. Of course her words were in vain and I was sweating like a pig because I was so nervous. All I can think is: this woman is going to wax me in my private parts and it’s going to hurt hurt hurt! I try to think of the quiet room and the birds and the very nice people and how all my other friends do this and they think it’s totally normal. It can’t be that bad, I tell myself.
In the end it didn’t take very long and it wasn’t all that awkward. Just a lot of flinching. The only awkward part was when she asked me if it looked okay and I couldn’t say because I can see zip because my gigantic belly is in the way. I guess she didn’t have a mirror. I told her I was sure it was fine. It was over, that’s all I cared. I got dressed, paid my thirty bucks and went home.
AND THEN I examined the merchandise in the privacy of my own bathroom. Oh my goodness! I look fabulous. I’m totally hooked. I am never going back to my jungle woman ways again. In fact, I’m so hooked on the whole spa experience that I’m already plotting to save up enough baby sitting money for a $90 “mother-to-be” pedicure. Imagine what that might be like… Just don’t tell Toby.