Men, once again - be glad you're MEN. I'm not suggesting you have no hardships, but let's call a spade a spade. As a general rule, it's the women who take the brunt of living.
Let me play out a recent morning's event for you.
9am. Bikini wax.
I am horizontal, naked from waist down, on table. No sheet to cover me, just sort of hanging out, no pun intended.
Aesthetician (aka - "the waxer") walks in, pushing cart with all kinds of wands and scrapers and tissues and cotton and a huge steaming bowl - which I can only assume is the hot lava about to boil my skin.
I don't have naked issues (swimmers usually don't) but I am not some exhibitionist either. I am marginally uncomfortable just sort of being exposed in a non-medicinal environment with a stranger, so I start to jabber and make conversation to alleviate my discomfort. She basically ignores me. Like a militant Russian, she grabs one of my knees and with force pulls it toward her so my legs are spread. (At least kiss me first?)
Without a word, Waxer rubs my crotch firmly with an anti-bacterial cloth. I try to get in the mood but somehow this isn't the fantasy I dream of.
Waxer: "This will burn".
No build up, no preparation, no hellos or smiles, just getting right down to business. I felt like a cheap prostitute in a foreign country. No foreplay, no talking, just immediate pounding.
Carole: "Ummm. Ok".
She clumps a heaping spoonful of boiling hot wax on my inner thighs as I hear my skin sear and crinkle.
She pats a long white cloth strip onto the wax and with a swift tug, yanks that sucker off with no mercy.
I notice some fur, clumps of skin and blood on the white cloth. I should have had a shot of whiskey before this torture.
Then she repeats procedure for other side.
Waxer: "All done" ... And she wisks out the door, never once even looking me in the eye.
Carole: "Thank you"... (I echo as the door closes behind her. If nothing else, I am always still polite) ....
I pull some soft pajama shorts up, commando style... no way I am wearing underwear right now ... and try to ignore the ripped skin and blood oozing from the sides of my legs... and I slowly walk out of there, hunched over, with a gait that makes me look like I'd been gang raped by a troop of baboons.
"A man will go to war, fight and die for his country. But he won't get a bikini wax."
- Rita Rudner -
And how was your morning????