I had heard about Brazilian bikini waxes on television and I thought to myself, "wow, that would be a special treat for my Michael." I called up my favorite salon to see if they offered this “service.” They did and I proceeded to book myself an appointment to be waxed bare. While making the appointment the woman explained that I would need to have at least 3-4 weeks worth of growth in order to have a successful wax. My first thought was, eww, but then I thought surely it would all be worth it in the end, alright I’ll do it. Not wanting to go it alone I managed to sucker one of my good friends into getting a Brazilian as well. She wasn’t the only one I approached, but the only one that agreed to accompany me on my quest to be bald. I decided I wanted to surprise Michael so I am sure he was baffled by the animalistic look my privates had taken on but God bless his little heart he never said a word. Finally the day of the appointment came. I gathered all the courage I could, downed a couple of prescription painkillers, and headed out to the salon. I was checked in and led down to the basement. How nice, I thought; maybe no one can hear you scream down here. I had agreed to go first since it was my idea. I was ushered into a small, dimly lit room by my waxer woman. I thought to myself, is this supposed to be romantic or relaxing and doesn’t she need more light to see where to wax? Instantly I get nervous so I start babbling because that’s what I do, nonstop chatter about nothing particularly important. “Well this is nice, it sure smells good in here, those are great curtains, gosh I really hope this isn’t going to be to painful, have you been doing this for a while, is this what your aptitude tests suggested you would be good at…” She replies “ok let’s make sure you have enough growth before we get started.” Well that was fast, I knew that at some point it would come to this, but I just assumed we’d get to know each other better before I exposed my most private part. I channeled my inner strength and began my “be brave you can do it” mantra. I grabbed a hold of my pants and my panties and pulled them down just enough to expose the very tippy top of what I believed were extremely hairy privates. “Nope, that’s not enough” she said “it needs to look like this” and with that she pulled down her pants and panties. Instantly my inner mantra turns to “be mature be mature be mature” and I started having a flashback to a porn, circa 1970, I had seen at a party once. My mouth didn’t drop open but I could feel my face getting flushed as I said “oh okay I understand.” So I made another appointment and two weeks later I drug my friend back to the salon with me. This time I was feeling slightly more confident thinking I knew what to expect and I felt closer to my waxer woman after our “bonding moment.” So I undressed, hopped on the table and started talking (I was still just a little bit nervous, I’ve never been one for pain). She explained what she was going to do and went to work on my privates. She pulled the first strip and I felt pain like I had never imagined, I could feel the beginnings of tears burning in the corner of my eyes. I knew I needed to suck it up, I’m sure most people don’t cry on the table and it’s not like I could get up and leave with only one strip missing from my overgrown privates. I tried deep breathing, meditation, finding a happy place, but nothing could rescue me from the searing pain as the hair was ripped from my privates (think 40 year old virgin- ohhh Kelly Clarkson). I knew that Brazilian meant completely bare but I wasn’t expecting the amount of completeness that this woman provided. Right when I was praising the good Lord for helping me through this, thinking it was over, she says “ alright, flip over, I need you on your knees and elbows, with your legs spread.” At a near loss for words I managed to mumble, “well at least I’m pretty familiar with this pose.” She wasn’t laughing and neither was I as I felt the warm wax being spread onto parts that had never seen the light of day. Other than the obvious humiliation factor that part wasn’t even as bad as the other part. Once she was satisfied that I was completely hair-free I was allowed to redress and go back upstairs. I felt like everyone was staring at me like there was a television in the waiting room with live feed from my room downstairs. The worst part was looking my friend in the eye and telling her that “it wasn’t that bad.” The results were less than ideal to say the least. I was sore for days and even after careful exfoliation, my privates ended up covered in red dots, the exact opposite of sexy. Michael was impressed with my pain tolerance but not my privates. My advice for other first timers considering the Brazilian: don’t take the word “bare” lightly, leave all dignity at the door, and taking painkillers beforehand doesn’t even put a dent in the pain so forget about it.