For all those people who said it would be ok – having my legs waxed – you were right. Having my legs waxed was fine.
For all of you who wondered whether you might have it done, because you quite fancied it, you should. You should have your legs waxed.
Having your legs waxed hurts like having plasters ripped off. Hurty plasters, yes, especially when they get near the ankle, near the bone, but otherwise youll be fine. Find someone wholl do it fast, and do it well, and you never regret it. The having of your legs waxed, I mean.
So thats what happened. I walked in and announced that I, Anna Pickard, had come to have my legs waxed.
I didnt say it like that, of course, I would have sounded like a dick.
I kind of meeped annafourfortylegs? at the swarthy man behind the nail bar, and was swiftly sent downstairs to The Torture Chamber of The Nice If Slightly Orange Ladies. The Den of No Shame.
To have my legs waxed.
Ill leave you to take your jeans off Chirruped the pretty young woman in the sterile looking room Half leg is it my names astah dunt worry youll be fine your friend said shed wait up stairs it was half leg wunt it not whole leg? she twittered, not seeming to leave the room so I could remove anything, so I removed them all the same. I like your mate shes nice int she shes like another woman who comes in I like her as well we talk about men god I could talk about men all day, it was half leg, yeah? Well, youll need to hitch up your top to be on the safe side I throw wax everywhere me.
Just pop up on the table and relax youll be fine its like I was saying to someone earlier today havin your legs waxed is as easy as pullin off plasters easier maybe so its nothing to worry about because Im very fast, you know, very fast, and itll be over before you know it, legs waxed, innit!
And, to be fair, by this point, she had already started.
In fact, she was maybe halfway through the first leg, and the incessant talking washing over me to the point where I was preoccupied, anaesthatised to the shrep shrep shrep of the strips against my leg. The leg that she was waxing. The waxing of the leg that had turned out to be, if not pleasant, then certainly not torturous.
Of course, I would be lying if I said I wasnt a little surprised when she suddenly started ripping out my pubic hair.
If you could just tip your leg this way? [SHREP! SHREP! SHREP!] And just a little more that way.[SHREPPP!]
I think absent thoughts about holidays and books and pubs and vodka tonics and
And now if you just turn it out that way a little thats great, and
And I wonder whether we have enough eggs in the fridge for an omelette and good GOD what IS she doing down there? Is that wax? Yes! Yes it is, does that mean shes going to ohfuckingHELL! THATS NOT MY LOWER LEG! Should I say something? Does she KNOW thats not my lower leg? Yes, well, Im guessing she does, I mean, you have to have some kind of medical training to WAAAH! SERIOUSLY! Fucking WAH, Motherfucker!
Im slightly in shock. Im not saying anything, because Im slightly in shock. I think its possibly quite natural to be in shock when someone is – OH FOR THE LOVE OF – well you get the idea.
My main worry is that there is, quite clearly, whether I want this or not, nothing that anyone can do about this now, apart from God, Elton Johns scalpologist, or a magical maker of miracle merkins.
If I say stop, then what am I going to be left with?
Something that looks like a cat whos just had an operation.
I stop her before she gets too far.
Are you alright? Not in pain, are ya?
Nonono, I say. Not pain.
A few minutes of conversation and clearly crossed-wiry-hairs pass.
Oh, right. Now yes, actually, maybe i was thinking of my five oclock.
All water under the bridge, I say. All wax under the panty, water under the bridge.
Lets move on.
We shall never speak of this again.
And Yes, yes, I know, whatever: TMI.
Well, one persons Too Much Information is another womans TLPH, thats what I say.
[Also, if you are one of my parents; just a warning – you might want to stop reading about 27 paragraphs ago. Cheers]