I was getting waxed this morning. My regular gal was off on her honeymoon, and there was an older lady in her place. This makes me uncomfortable. Once you establish a relationship with your waxer, it is hard to just jump to another one, without even so much as dinner first.
I was getting the trifecta done: underarms, lower leg and Brazilian. The lady tried to hide the fact her hand was shaking while she lifted my leg over my head.
"Let's just jump straight to the hard part," she quivered.
Trying to soothe myself with humor, I squeaked. "That's what she said."
She cocked her head and stared at me, as a stream of hot wax dripped onto my inner thigh.
"That's what who said, dear?"
Guess someone is a little behind in The Office.
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