Waxing lyrical

There are some jobs, I imagine, for which a high pain threshhold is probably a good thing. Perhaps if you work with sewing machines and end up stabbing yourself quite a lot (is it just me that used to have that problem in Textiles lessons?), or perhaps you're a not-very-good chef and you cut yourself or burn yourself a lot. I mean accidentally. I don't mean if you are a self-harming chef.

If you are a self-harming chef, please do seek some sort of psychological help. Thank you.

I digress.

A few days ago I came across a profession for which a high pain tolerance was definitely not a good thing. It was my bikini waxist. She said hello. She was covered in tattoos. Now, untattooed myself, I can't say for certain that I know having a tattoo hurts. But I bet it smarts. And I was letting this woman loose on my nether regions. In an entirely professional way, please understand.

So, she shows me to the little room and she heats the wax. Making conversation she says, unhelpfully, "I would never have my bikini line waxed."

"Oh," said I, acting super-well to keep the fear out of my voice. "Why not?"

"It hurts far too much," she said. "When I was at beautician school we had to practise on our friends and family. I was rubbish. My sister was black and blue down there for weeks and didn't speak to me for a month. Right, shall we get started?"



When our culture has evolved (or when our bodies have, to rid ourselves of the hair we do not need), children will learn about bikini waxing in awe and wonder.

"Let me get this right, Miss," they will say. Because although they are future-children, they are still respectful to their elders. "You're saying that in the 21st century - the 21st century - professional, intelligent women would go to places and have their pubic hair ripped out by a stranger?"

"Yes," Miss would reply. "That is true."

"And," would continue future-children, "after the humiliation of exposing their genitals to a stranger and suffering excruciating pain, the intelligent, professional women would then - this can't be right - would then pay the stranger?"

"It's true," their teacher would say. "And sometimes, if the intelligent, professional woman was particularly embarrassed about her girly screaming, she would even leave a generous tip."

"Bollocks," would say the future child. "You're making it up. Miss is a big fat liar."

Sometimes future-children also have too much tartrazine.