I Got My You-Know-What Waxed
I’ve never manscaped before. It’s not because I’m lazy. I just honestly didn’t know I was supposed to do it. However, the more and more I talked to my male peers and slept around, I noticed that everyone was in tip-top shape down there. While I wasn’t looking, men just decided to step up their penis game and get clean. They got trimmed and properly groomed, and became a true sight of modern penis perfection. My pubic hair, on the other hand, looked like an extra in The Lion King. You needed a bushwhacker just to find my dick and when you finally did, you had to dive in with a mask so you wouldn’t get all this hair in your mouth. How rude of me! So I succumbed to peer pressure and decided to get the damn thing waxed. Not the whole thing mind you, just the top and the sides. I would’ve done it myself but I don’t trust my hand-eye coordination. With my luck, I would’ve done a false move and Lorena Bobbit’d myself. Not chic.
The day of my appointment I was terrified. I kept on thinking of all the times my pubic hair had accidentally been tugged on (hey, it happens) and how painful that was. This had to feel 10,000 times worse. Then I remembered that my best friend always said that she took a Xanax before she got her bikini waxed and didn’t feel a thing, which seemed like a brilliant idea. Except I didn’t have any Xanax. Contrary to the image that I’ve perpetuated of myself on the Internet, I don’t even like that stuff and rarely take it. I did, however, have an emergency stash of Vicodin, which I thought would work just fine. I didn’t know this prior but I guess Vicodin can be used to treat actual pain — WHO KNEW? — so I took some and went traipsing off to my appointment, not knowing what to expect but hoping I didn’t barf all over my waxer.
When I got there, a lady with a thick German accent asked me to get naked and put on this white g-string. It was a flimsy little thing and I hadn’t the slightest idea what went where but I gave it my best guess and tried it on. The second it snapped around my hips, I realized it was on the wrong way but I figured “Who cares? I’m gay anyway.” and laid face down on the table.
When she came back in, I immediately made two things clear to her: 1. I’m gay and 2. I’m stoned on Vicodin. When she had heard that I took some painkillers in preparation for my wax, she started to laugh hysterically and talk about how much she loved Vicodin and what a good idea it was to take it. “NOW YOU WON’T FEEL A THING!” Thank God. She gets me!
I don’t know if it was my being gay or the fact that I made her laugh a few times, but homegirl immediately stripped off my g-string and got acquainted with my penis. She would gently pull it back whenever she would wax a hard-to-reach area and I would just thank my lucky stars that I liked dudes. Otherwise, this would’ve been a very awkward situation for me. The actual waxing itself was totally bearable. The Vicodin had apparently created a shield around my body, which made it difficult for any kind of pain to resonate. I was actually shocked by how painless the whole thing was. Afterward, she even plucked my eyebrows and did extractions but I was half-unconscious during those and didn’t feel a thing. I don’t even really remember leaving the appointment except for her saying, “Look at your beautiful new friend. Isn’t it beautiful?!” I was too out of it to notice but I trusted her.
After wandering around Soho for a few hours in a haze, I finally went home to admire her work in the mirror. At first it felt strange to just see a tiny patch of hair instead of an overgrown field but I got used to it very quickly and fell in love with it. Now I don’t think I’ll ever go back to living la vida hairy. I feel a bizarre sense of accomplishment with my dick area waxed, like I’m someone who’s caring and considerate to their partners, and has their life together enough to take care of business. Like a proud parent, I just want to show everyone my new manscaped region but I realized that would be creepy and I could get arrested, so I don’t.
Oh, and having trimmed pubes is supposed to make your dick look an inch bigger but I’m not really sure if that’s true. From what I can tell, manscaping just makes it look like more of a star rather than a supporting actor.
A | A | A
I often find myself in situations where I can’t stop drinking, and I wonder what and who I am becoming. Mom? Dad? Both? Neither?
The majority in Schuette represent the widespread belief that we live in a post-racial society and race based admissions reinforces and highlights racial divides.
It may not technically be summer yet, but it’s not snowing anymore hooray!