So I decided, somewhat foolishly, to try one of those home waxing kits. (Don't the best stories start this way?)
My first concern came when the waxing kit I specially selected (after 45 minutes of reading each and every package available at the super-sized pharmacy) had hidden within its depths a particularly worrysome thing.
What can be so perplexing from inside the recess of a waxing kit you ask? Consider this- I bought a kit specifically designed for bikini waxing. And yet, inside there was a slip of paper warning me not to apply it to my genital region.
I know I am Canadian and all, but where I come from? We don't wear bikinis as mittens or anything. They definitely are worn over the pink bits.
So I spend a few more minutes re-reading the exterior packaging. Yep, definitely a bikini waxing kit. And so on I proudly marched.
The box said "raspberry scented". I'll suggest to the manufacturer that they should more aptly describe the aroma as that of the scent of a Grizzly bear taking his first dump after a 6 month hibernation. Though, to be fair, grizzlies do eat alot of raspberry.
Clamping my nose shut with a clothespeg, I get stuck into it. First strip on, first strip off. Painful, but nothing more then I would expect when ripping out a few dozen hairs by their roots.
As I'm settling up for the next strip, sudden disaster. Like a dozen pint sized sadists were poking my flesh with heated pokers. Pain that was most certainly not of the good variety. And it just gets worse and worse.
So I get understandably worried, and grab the package again. It says to rinse after, but says that soap will not remove residue. Fabulous. Screming on the inside, i stand in a ice-cold shower for about ten minutes till my eyes stop watering and the pain is now just a dull roar that I'm able to think through.
Out of the shower, I survey the damage in the mirror. hmmm. a Perfect wax-strip sized patch of skin on my most favouritest bits is now red and inflamed to the point of being noticeably puffy.
I think I've broked it. this is not good.
I spend the next hour and a half lying on the bed with cold wet facecloth compresses laid over my cunt to try to stop the bee-sting like swelling from closing up shop completely.
Eventually, the urge to cry at the pain abates, and I even have a moment of amusement thinking about the Bastard having to suffer through the afternoon wanting to get home to do exactly what I asked of him in a naughty text earlier, only to find things in less then working order.
ok. So soap won;t help, but I need to figure out something else. Because I can't sit on an icepack all night. If soap and water won't fix it...what about lube?
The dogs both went running in fright and cowered by the back door when the lube hit my skin. Apparently, dogs dogs extra sensitive hearing means screams are extra noticable.
After intitial application, though, the lube worked. I was actually able to get dressed and move around without wanting to kill everything that touched me- including the air.
So here I sit, slip-sliding around on the edge of the couch wondering how long it will be till I'm able to break out the trusty razor and finish the job.
I have a new-found respect for every fucker who waxes. I am not worthy.
