Musings from the God of Cities

I got my back waxed. I did it about partly out of curiosity, partly for the story, and partly to have my shit look pretty for the bf. I went with BG to the small waxerie that he goes to. (“I should go once a month, but I only really make it there once every few months,” he reported when I asked him how often he went.) I was told to go to a very small room where three different pots of wax were boiling up. The lady comes in and tells me to lie face down on the butcher-paper-covered bed. She asked me what kind of wax I wanted, and not understanding, I said, “uh… back?” she stifled a smile and explained that they had three types of wax: regular ($13.50) sensitive skin ($20) and pain-free ($45). I opted for the regular because paying the extra $30 would have hurt me more than any wax. Before she started I asked that she not touch the small patch of hair at my lower back as I love that particular bit of body hair. She didn’t touch it, but she did “clean it up.” All told, it wasn’t that bad. It only really hurt when she did my neck and upper shoulders, as that’s where I have the most hair. And even then, it didn’t hurt that bad. Now I’m thinking about eventually getting my ears waxed, as they’re starting to get a wee bit out of hand.