Nikki Yeager

I did another one of my 21 Things over two weeks ago. One of the more personal, sort of strange, TMI things: Getting a Brazilian. The plan was to record my facial reactions while it was happening so everyone could pretend they were in just as much excruciated pain as I was!... And so I could look back and laugh at the way my face has a habit of contorting when I don’t pay attention to it.

 Unfortunately I had the appointment scheduled the same day my Uncle died and it threw me for a bit of a loop and it just didn't seem right to record myself getting waxed while thinking about a funeral. I don’t know, call me crazy, but that just seems unsavory.

So, I went without a camera. Instead, I drew some pictures below to illustrate the whole event and you can still pretend you were right there with me (although I’d rather you didn’t)!

First I walked into Shobha, the place I’d read all sorts of miraculous reviews about. Apparently, they have Sugaring options instead of waxing so the pain is supposed to be about half as intense. I liked half-intensity pain ratings.

Inside, I waited for about 10 minutes with all the older women getting their eyebrows threaded, Little did they know, I was about to drop trow for one of their usually-eyebrow estheticians.

Finally, a tiny little woman named Neetsu came out and introduced herself. With the minimum amount of conversation possible she walked me back to a private room. Inside she efficiently pulled out a paper cover for what looked like a doctor’s bed and then demanded “Everything off from the waist down.” Thankfully I was wearing a dress so the situation was a bit less awkward.

Then the tiny little woman had me put my legs in a lotus position while laying back on the bed. She asked me a few questions, “is this your first time?”. Which it was.

Neetsu then informed me that I’d have to go with waxing instead of sugaring because newbies don’t have the right hair for sugar (need I remind you.. sugaring is the sole reason I chose Shobha). For a split second I panicked.

Before I had a chance to launch into a full blown anxiety attack, she slapped some hot, sticky, uncomfortable wax on, covered it with a white cloth and –without warning- RIPPPPPPED it right off.

This is how it felt:

Then she did the other side. And this is how that felt:

And then she did the middle and for the first time my legs shook, my hand flew out to the side and my mouth let out a piercing “ah!”

Still, not as painful as I’d imagined. Sure, I felt a fiery rage bubbling inside me (yes, I realize I spelled fiery wrong in the pic) but it was still less than the hell-on-my-crotch searing pain I'd imagined. So she finished up with me “ah-ing” along the way.

Finally, everything was done. I threw my tip in an envelope and waddled out to the street. The wax may not have been as bad as I’d imagined but the burning afterwards certainly was. Go figure.

Anyways, it’s been two weeks now and would I go back again? You betcha.