Breakfast At Tiffany's




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« The Tree Trimmer | Home | Rachael Does London »

Pussy Whipped- A Vagina Monologue

Part of: Seinfeld-esque

[Breakfast: a green tea soy latte]

The Regular Bikini Wax - Removes all hair outside of the panty line.

The Brazilian Bikini Wax - Leaves a vertical stripe or triangular shape in the vaginal area, two to three fingers in width. Hair is removed from the labia. Hair is removed from behind the tush. Named after the Brazilian women that would wear G-String Bikinis and you could never spot any hair when looking from behind. With the Brazilian it's not what you leave up front it's what you don't leave from behind.

The Playboy Bikini Wax - A very narrow strip is left in the vaginal area. All hair is removed from the labia, all hair is removed from the tush. Named after the famous Playboy Playmates featured in the magazines because that's what you see on the models in Playboy.

The Bare All Bikini Wax - Hair is entirely removed from the vaginal area, labia, and from the tush. Just like the name says, it’s bare all. Sometimes this treatment is otherwise known as "The Full Monty" Bikini Wax. (via Faces )


Getting a bikini wax is horrible. If a man ever insists that you get one, tell him you’d be happy to do it if he gets his balls waxed. And for men: if your lover says that it’s a deal breaker if you don’t wax your back, tell her it’s no problem if she’ll get her pubes waxed too. Sometimes I fantasize about getting hold of a muscle relaxer or Vicodin before I go, but I’ve never gone through with it. I took Advil™ once, but I’m not positive that it helped. The other day I went to my waxing appointment only on caffeine, and that, dear readers was very stupid.

I involuntarily tightened up before Inga ripped a section of hair off me.


"Why are you drinking coffee, baby?" asked Inga, while making a clicking sound and ripping off more of my hair. "You should NEVER do that before treatment, never ever."

My legs were spread out and my organic iced latte from The Coral Tree was quickly melting under the chair. I was so tired that I hadn’t put together the obvious: nerves and caffeine do not mix. The other bad time for any kind of waxing is before one’s period, because there’s a greater sensitivity to pain. Before last month’s appointment I had gone for a few months au naturel, so it had been beyond torturous. I decided from then on to make monthly appointments in advance even if it wasn’t bikini season. Honestly, if you get a Brazilian wax (or more hair removed) it makes for much more sensitivity --so it’s really worth the money year round.

I leaned back and tried to concentrate on something different. That’s when I became aware that the treatment room’s door was wide open. I wondered if it was okay that my privacy was being compromised. No one else seemed to be in the office—it was lunchtime.

The ripping and pain continued. I tried to hold my hand as tautly as possible against my skin. That helps with the pain. I even forgot to be excited about the fact that my vagina was getting a new hairstyle.

After ages of pain, my legs were finally midair. Counter intuitively, the areas that seemed the most vulnerable to pain had no pain at all.

Almost in a six sensensian way, I suddenly looked behind me and realized that a woman was standing less than three feet away from me and staring—WTF? Our eyes connected and I quickly looked away. The woman started talking to Inga about her dog. Was this suspect behavior?

She must have been watching Inga’s technique, I thought to myself. But wouldn’t Inga have asked me if that were OK first? Maybe the woman was a lesbian and got off on watching young women getting their vagina’s waxed. What if Inga was in on it? Having a lesbian getting off on looking at my vagina was on par with a man doing the same thing. (When I told DK about the incident he didn’t agree with my logic and asked if the woman was hot.)

The woman left and Inga finished up. After my session I was so out of it from the combined events that I didn’t even come up with a sarky remark. I know you’re thinking, WTF? On the way home, I figured it all out…Inga must have hired the woman to distract customers from focusing on the pain. So when I got home, I called Inga, complimented her on her pain management techniques and apologized to her that I had not given her colleague a tip. She hung up on me.


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