I stared at her with wide eyes, not having the slightest clue what she'd just talked about. “Brazilian what?” I was either the dumbest person on the planet, or Amy was simply weird. So far I’d associated Brazil with carnival, the Copacabana and the Amazon.
She giggled, definitely amused by my cluelessness. “I guess we need to deal with the basics first.” She sat up straighter and folded her hands. “Landing strip means that a thin strip of pubic hair remains. Hollywood Cut means that every single hair gets removed. There's also the option of having a Brazilian Triangle, but I've never had it.”
My face felt like it was burning up but I couldn't take my eyes from Amy. She didn't seem embarrassed at all by the topic. She talked about it as though it was the most normal thing in the world, but maybe it was, and I was just a freak.
“So men like it?”
Amy nodded her head vehemently. “Most men don't like their women all bushy.” She paused, scrutinizing me. “I've got an idea. It's Saturday and we both don't have anything better to do. So why don't we go to my favorite waxing studio and get a waxing. I'm due anyway.”
I swallowed, a bit nervous but also very excited. “Sure, why not.”
I yelped in surprise when Amy grabbed my thigh and pushed my trouser leg up. She took a look at my calf and ran a hand over it. I blushed furiously, knowing that I hadn't gotten around to shaving for a few days. Could my mortification get any worse?
Amy tilted her head in contemplation. “I’m not sure if your hair is long enough. We’ll have to ask if we can have your legs waxed as well.”
I nodded numbly, gulping down the rest of my coffee.
Amy jumped up from her chair, startling Bruno who'd been sleeping on his back, snoring loudly. He rolled onto his stomach and watched us. I stood and patted his head in apology.
“Come on, Nora. Let's go. The sooner we get rid of your body hair, the better,” Amy shouted loud enough for probably the entire neighborhood to hear.
My face was as red as a tomato as I followed Amy out of my apartment and down the stairs toward her Mini Cooper.
Amy was a fast driver, even worse than most Cab drivers, and a few times I actually feared for my life but luckily we arrived safely at our destination. The waxing studio Amy led me into was held in white and light green tones and there were bright orange sofas and armchairs everywhere. The woman behind the counter recognized Amy immediately and greeted us very friendly, which probably should have set me at ease. She was even taller than me and had a waist to kill for. Her blond hair was pulled back in a tidy ponytail. Despite her smile, I was a bit intimidated. This place looked expensive, and even Amy’s words couldn’t get me excited about spending a little fortune on someone torturing me.
“So what can I do for you and your friend?” the woman asked.
Amy smiled. “Armpits, Legs, Brazilian Hollywood Cut,” the words shot out of her mouth without hesitation and I didn't dare to object, though I wondered if the Hollywood Cut was the right thing for me. Maybe I should start small, with a Triangle or something like that. Then an image of Adrian with his women shot through my head and I decided that I could do it. I’d survived two years in Jack’s bar. How bad could this really be?
A woman who looked to be in her late twenties with curly, brown hair introduced herself as Marie, my Depiladora. Apparently, that was the correct term for someone who removed people's hair. There was so much I needed to learn. The word sounded glamorous. Maybe I should consider changing jobs. But the thought of ripping someone’s hair from their lady parts somehow sounded even worse than serving beer to drunk assholes. Oh well…
Amy waved me good bye as she was led into a room, and I followed Marie into another small room where I had to undress and lie down on a orange lounger. Marie smiled at me while she put something that looked like honey on my calf. It was warm and felt quite nice.
“This will hurt a little,” my Depiladora warned me.
I prepared myself for the pain, or so I'd thought, and nearly passed out when Marie ripped the wax from my calf. I might have screamed, I wasn't sure, but little stars were dancing in front of my eyes. Marie smiled at me and showed me the wax with my hair. I tried to smile in return but it turned into a grimace. Why did people do this on a regular basis? Were all those people masochists? Amy didn't seem to me like she enjoyed pain, but how could she do this over and over again?
I felt more wax being put on my calf and I was about to protest when I thought of Adrian and all his stupid bimbos that could do this. I bit down on my lip and didn't make a noise when the hair was ripped from my calf. I hope you’ll reward me, Adrian.
“It will get less painful if you get a waxing regularly. The hair gets thinner and soon you won't feel the pain anymore,” Marie assured me while she worked on my thighs. Maybe she was right.
“We need to crop your pubic hair a bit before we can start. It's too long for waxing,” she explained when she was done with my legs and I felt myself blush deeply. Now it was official, I was a freak. My hair was even too long for waxing. Nora, the bushy freak.
I tried to think of anything but the woman who was currently cropping my hair down there with scissors.
“Done,” she said after a moment. “Now you can get your Hollywood Cut.”
My bravery evaporated when I felt the warm wax being spread on my cubic bone. I stared at the ceiling, trying to think of Adrian, and then my vision turned black for an instant. I sat up, my eyes wide while I tried to get over the pain. I drew in a shaky breath and stared at my pubic area where a strip of hair was missing. My skin was turning red fast. That had hurt like hell. But I had to admit that it looked good without hair, or it would look good once the redness went away.
Marie made fast work of the hair on my pubic bone but then she turned her attention to my labia and I cursed Amy, and all men, but particularly Adrian.
“Turn around, please,” Marie said when she was done with my front.
I followed her orders. She'd already removed the hair from the back of my legs, so I didn't know what she was doing there. I almost screamed in shock when I felt her spread the wax on my buttocks and the groove between my thighs and buttocks. I didn't even know that I had hair there.
I closed my eyes and endured the rest of the torture. A sigh of relief left my lips when Marie told me that we were done. She spread a cooling cream that smelled like lavender on my skin and the pain lessened. With a smile, she left the room to give me some privacy, so I could get dressed. But really what was the point? She’d seen it all. The muscles in my legs were quivering when I got dressed. The last time I’d felt like that, Amy had talked me into running a 5k with her. I wasn’t sure what was worse.