We're not in California anymore, Toto

I guess everyone needs a bikini wax horror story.

There are an abnormal number of independent salons on the main road leading to our apartment complex (in the opposite direction of the ghetto). Yesterday, Irish and I walked in to the one boasting the lowest prices - probably our first mistake - so that he could get a haircut and I could get waxed. It'd been almost five weeks, and I was getting desperate. I had told myself, when I knew I was going to have to find a new waxer, that I didn't want a little Asian woman. This stems back to my first waxing experience, in Solana Beach by the 24-hour donut shop, with Pigeon, or maybe it was Suzy, sometime in high school. I don't remember much except that the woman was little and Asian, and I must've been dissatisfied because didn't do waxing again for like eight years. So the second clue should have been that the woman was little and Asian.

So Irish, like most guys, gets a #2 buzz on the back and sides, scissor cut on top. My third clue really should've been the horrible job she did on his hair: the buzzed part was fine, but the scissor cut? She used a comb, and from what I could tell, thinning shears. And cut it way too short. He came out looking like he'd had a buzz all the way around, except that his bangs are slightly longer than the rest, and there are random long pieces sticking up all over his head. And yet, when she was finished she proclaimed, "Now you hahn-sohm! In he hahn-sohm?" We're considering getting some clippers so I can just buzz the whole thing for him - properly, this time - until it grows back.

Then, onto me. The waxing was relatively painless, and she did a pretty good job with my eyebrows (which were already shaped). But the bikini - I explained to her that I basically get a Brazilian, leaving one little triangle just on top so I don't look like a child. So she waxed the top and sides. "Now you beautiful!" I asked her to do underneath as well. "Oh, that hurt. That vewwy hurt!" ...I know it hurts. I've had it done before. So she did the outside of the lips, and then, for some unknown reason...

refused to wax the inside!

She told me to go home and "clean myself". And only charged me $35 total. So I went home. I cleaned myself. I found insane amounts of wax left over, mostly on the part she'd refused to wax. Gross. And then I inspected. Imagine a whale's baleen if you will. Imagine a Venus Flytrap. Imagine my self-image deteriorating at record speed.

Naturally, I told Irish we weren't having sex on account of my vagina being retarded. And this is the sweet part, because he told me he wouldn't have even noticed if I hadn't said anything ("There's hair on the inside?!"), threw me down on the bed, and started telling me everything he loves about me. We went to bed at 11 and were up until almost 3. Just talking. Mostly.

This morning, I got up early, and went to the expensive spa/salon down the street, the one that, until last week, was advertising, a "COLOR ME PINK HEART SHAPED BRAZILIAN" on their marquée. I figured they would take pity on me and fix it. And they did. For another $35 (half of what they'd charge for an actual Brazilian). So basically, I could have paid the same amount to get it done right the first time, and just tweezed my own eyebrows like in days of yore. It's something worth considering for next month - saving myself the personal cost in favor of the financial? I think so...