My Latest Reason to Hate Men…
For a long time now I have grown to like the male species less and less. The ones you want to call never do. The ones you never want to speak to again, call you constantly. They don’t wash their hair, they look hot - you look homeless. They can get away with sleeping around - you’re a ho fo sho. Men age better. Are better at math. Men have a bad day they are upset - you have a bad day, you are obviously just hormonal/crazy. They pee standing up. Get better acting roles. Are considered “charming” when they are cocky egomaniacs, and truly, they are only interested in one thing - THEMSELVES.
All these reasons have led to an ever-growing disdain, but today I experienced the straw that broke the camel’s back. This may get graphic so If you have a weak stomach, are a man, or don’t want to hear about my junk, I suggest you stop reading right now. Are you gone?? Ok. But remember, you were warned. Today, I experienced my first bikini wax. dun dun duuuuuuuuun.
Yes it is as bad as they say. In fact, its worse. First of all you are positioned in a way that is uncomfortably reminiscent of being at the gynecologists office - not the most relaxing thought. Then they try to trick you by playing soft music and spreading warm goo all over. You foolishly think, “Hey this isn’t so bad! Besides, a couple of quick rips and its over right?” WRONG!!!! WRONG WRONG WRONG!! Either I had a perfectionist/anal retentive waxing me or this process truly is a lengthy pain-staking experience. I might also add that she did a little bit more than I asked for, creating more of a “trip to Brazil” and putting me through extra moments of excruciating pain. There were a few rips when I swear I could have hit an eflat (that’s real high for all you non-music folks). And the whole time I was laying there bleeding and gritting my teeth I kept thinking, “WHY AM I DOING THIS????” It truly is the most pointless harm I have ever done to myself. The best part was the cold compress at the end. God bless the lord for making water cold.
So as I left, still feeling a stinging sensation in my nether-regions, I began to get angry. No man in his right mind would do what I just did! AND YET…. this is almost expected of me. Required of me as a woman. FUCK THAT!!!!! Isn’t it bad enough that I get my period and have to push a toaster-oven out of my hooha? I should not have to suffer pain needlessly just so my junk looks pretty for 3 weeks.
So I’ve made a decision. From this day forward, if I ever date a man who would like me to wax, my response will be “SURE!!!!!! You first.”
I’m not a waxing person myself but I’ve had a couple of boyfriends that got themselves waxed. I thought it was weird at first, but we all have our little quirks. I think we’ve reached the point where no one expects you to be bald as a mole rat all the time, but to maintain some semblance of semi-frequent grooming rituals - and it goes both ways.
