I received an unusual gift for no particular reason. A model friend and I were having lunch and she wanted to bring me something.
Hmm, she must have thought, what should I get Susannah, the girl who has everything…I know…how bout a zip from the pubic bone down.
It was a Brazilian bikini wax in a long, fancy box.
My face fell when I opened it and it said…good for one complete scalping at Nina’s House of Wax. I threw in the scalping…it actually said, Brazilian Bikini that I wish meant, bra and thong. Sounds more like Madam Tussauds…on a towel.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have mixed feelings over this peculiar offering. Being plucked like a chicken isn’t much of a draw.
Couldn’t truthfully say…just what I always wanted.
Brought to mind a prop master I once dated. He went the other route…asked me if I’d mind growing out my hair…in all areas.
Hmm…had to think about that one. I liked him, making a heroic attempt, but nothing of much consequence grew. Short of fertilizing myself there was little I could do. He finally got disgusted starting a fatal fight with me screaming, “Maybe you should date a Chia Pet.”
I suppose I could have tried harder, like renting a gorilla suit, but we tend to think of solutions after the fact.
I’m all for cleaning up, but a boundary…south…just might have to be set.
Once, when I went in for a routine waxing…we models have to keep tidy since you never know what you’ll be asked to wear…and the waxer, on her cell phone while I writhed on the table, wasn’t paying proper attention to what she was doing giving me a Mohawk that should have come with feathers and a hatchet. Morphine
Maybe I can trade it in for something else, like a brow wax or maybe just some wax to go. I could use it on my floor.
What, it’s not that kind of wax you say?
Well let me ask you this…
would a pair of gloves have killed her?