Saving V Waxing

I’ve only shaved a few times in my life., always in cases of emergency. For the most part I wax. My Mum introduced me to waxing at the age of 8 when she ran my hand up her stubbly leg and said, ‘Don’t shave, or your whole body will fell like an old mans five o’clock shadow.’

I’ve been a waxer ever since.

Yesterday I had a hairy emergency. I dressed for work, black slacks, red sleeveless top and strappy girl shoes. At lunch time I realised my dressing error. I’m due to see my beauty torturer at the weekend, so my underarms were not fit to be seen in sleeveless. D’oh!

So I popped into my nearest place (3 doors down from the office) and asked if I could get an underarm waxing. The receptionist pulled the waxing girl of her lunch break! I should have run away there and then, but my brain-waves didn’t reach my feet quick enough. She didn’t talk to me at all, she put the wax on really hot, and then she pulled the wax off without holding my skin taught. She hurt me!

Never in the many years I have been waxing have I ever had bruises, until last night. My right underarm looks like it’s been punched.

My regular beauty lady, (I'll call her S), although I call her my torturer has never hurt me, even when pulling out vast tracts of hair. I really must remember I get hairy near an appointment. Ohh…and keep a razor handy if I can’t get to S!