Warning: This is going to be a gross post.
So, after a little over two weeks from when I returned from India, my waxing is growing out. Well, my underarms have grown out altogether and I am faced with a dilemma: Do I…
b) Pay HK$90 to get them waxed at the local parlour painfully with cold wax
c) Wait till next week and get some Indian person to do it
I am not entirely keen on option c) because the last time I tried calling one of these people (who come to your house and do everything at half the price Indian-style) she began to speak to me in Hindi. Somehow, I really don’t feel the need to put myself in the inevitable position of feeling like a fake Indian because I don’t speak Hindi and also the amount of planning and explaining to get these women to come over is just too much. I mean, I can barely be bothered to plan in advance to meet my own friends.
Anyway, since my new mantra is to show off my arms (still unhairy) and legs (so far so good) as much as possible, I finally decided to sod it and go for a).
So on the one day when I miraculously was able to leave work at 6.30, I nipped over the parlour next to my office where the Chinese staff speak English and are really nice. Here’s what happens.
They take me to a nice cubbie, cover me up in blanket, switch on this clinical light and wipe my armpits with disinfectant. Then they get this tube of cold wax and screech it on to my arm – screech because that’s what was going through my head as the girl Amy (really sweet with the gentlest face ever) was putting it on. Then she does one wax and obviously everything hasn’t come off. So get this – she gets a tweezer and begins to pluck each individual hair!!!
It’s like those Jain monks which have to have each hair pulled out as an austerity measure. Or were they Bikshus. Whatever, I’m not one of them. And why do guys never have to go through any of this. Individual armpit hair pulling, my god! At some point, she says “you know some of them, only the root is out.” And I’m like: “So you’re getting those out too.” AND SHE SAYS YES!
And I can’t stop her because it’s like telling someone who’s doing a good job not to.
Ok I don’t know why I had to share this but I guess it’s how victims of torture feel after the whole tihng.