Time to Torture

I’m not exactly the busiest person at my job; I usually have plenty of extra time to do other stuff. Few days ago I was going swimming with my friends right after work, but I didn’t get the chance to do the pre-swimming-Barbaric-ritual (in other words “waxing”). I had two options: to introduce myself to my friends as Lulufar’s twin brother they’d never met, or wax at work. I chose the latter since I didn’t find the first option convincing enough. So I took the wax to work. I went to the back room knowing that if someone comes I’d hear the door. I put the wax in the microwave and heat it up. Took off my clothes and spread the hot wax on my skin. It was so hot that I started jumping like crazy and all of a sudden I hear the door.

I froze for a second, reached out for the napkin and stuck it on top of the hot wax, wore my clothes on top of the wax-napkin jumble, and ran out of the room. I’m facing the people who came in and I’m trying with all my might to hold my tears of pain. I’m burning like a liar burns in hell while melted lead is poured in her throat (I never got the chance to ask my religious teacher which one burns more: melted lead or hot wax). While I’m talking to these people the wax is cooling down and stretches my skin and every hair in the area. Now I have to reach up and give these people something from the top shelf. While I stretch my body the wax slowly, one by one, pulls hairs off my skin. I start coughing to avoid shouting from pain, and in my mind I’m cursing all the women who started the waxing tradition and the men for not having this tradition.

To make the long story short, I finished with the clients and ran to the back room. I had a lot of fun removing that gross mixture of wax and napkin off of my poor skin. But I learned a good lesson which I’d like to share with all the women: when at work never ever heat up your wax too much. Warm it up just enough to be able to spread it. This way it’s faster, easier, and less risky.