For Her Eyes Only

It is my understanding that my audience primarily consists of my dedicated sorority sisters & there are likely two potential male readers. To those two, stop reading. This post is for her eyes only. Seriously. Stop.

Last week after exhaustive talk & questioning I decided to get my first Brazilian. This is extremely personal of course, but I feel that as a part of the healing process I need to share my story.

Upon arrival at the spa I was led to the pretty little room where I've been getting my brows done for months. Little did I know this quaint room was actually a torture chamber. My miniature Chinese torturess came in & instructed me to drop trou without so much as a hello. I tried to break the ice by cracking jokes, some of my top shelf material. She looked as though she hadn't smiled in at least 30 years, & made it clear she wasn't planning on starting today.

Without hesitation I can honestly say this was one of the most painful experiences of my life. Tears were swimming in my eyes & I was sweating like Tom Vaughn walking around the block. The torturess made my gynecologist seem like Santa Claus. I can assuredly say that she was getting a kick out of the supreme pain I was in. She is lucky she didn't get a kick in the head. My legs were uncontrollably flailing about. When I would whimper or yelp she would repeatedly say "almost done." She told me she was almost done about 37 times before I asked to her please stop saying it.

After she finished the basement she wanted to work on the back door. With tears in my eyes I said "no one goes back there, let's skip it."

The part I really can't get over is that I paid her to do that to me. I gave her cash money for that abuse. In my head she should be supplying me with some sort of compensation. A muffin basket perhaps?