Sorry, Me.

What would the first task you would embark on if you lived in the woods where it snowed from August 31 until July 15th and suddenly found your self on the beach in  Miami smack dab in the middle of your bush growing season? Short of searching out a South American landscaping crew I think you would look for a South American landscaping crew, right? 

Is anyone tired of my waxing adventures because apparently…. I’M NOT! 

While this, by far, was not the worst waxing experience I’ve ever had it probably could be categorized as the most bizarre experience to date.

First call, we will come to your room. 50 for bikini. 90 for Brazilian. Okay. I have very sensitive skin. I want to see what kind of wax. Is it hard wax? Is it strip wax? Hard wax is good. I will decide when the technician gets here. Okay. Bye

Second call. We will only come to your room for 90 Brazilian. Of course by all means. FUCKERS. I’m in Miami. It’s 80 degrees. The only thing separating me from the beach  is the giant Side Show Bob Afro sticking out  of every possible opening in my bikini.

 By all means come to my room for 90 Brazilian and to watch me cry.

Knock, knock.

The lovely spa coordinator arrives to set up the table and to talk about my cute dress I’m wearing. And to get my money and to tell me that the gratuity is not included and to tell me that they prefer cash and to tell me that the technician is older and she has waxed Hayden Panitierreiolio.

 Which made me feel so much more at ease.

Apparently Hayden wanted to get rid of everything too, including her ears.

I sign. She leaves.

Knock. Knock.

Come in. We talk. Her name is Marianella. Yes. Yes, of course it is. We wait for the wax to warm up. We discuss the wax. She prefers strip wax. I prefer hard wax. I have sensitive skin. I bruise easy. She says the strip wax is easy. Easy on the skin. She’s been doing this for a long time. Nine years.

Trust.

We wait for the rubber gloves to arrive that Marianella forgot.

Dinc. Donc.

Marianella answers her phone, but first.

“Sorry, me.” Right. Of course. Take that call before we get started.

On the table. Robe off. Hot wax. Muslin.

Rip.

How is it?

Not bad.   

Again. Hot wax. Muslin. Unstick rubber gloves from me. Rip. Repeat.

Dinc. Donc. Dinc. Donc.

“Sorry, me.” Really another call? Now during? Uh…

We go on and on with this process. Until we get to the most sensitive of places yet she continues to answer her phone. And becomes increasingly nervous. And weird. And the “Sorry, me’s.” keep coming.

Dinc. Donc. Dinc. Donc.Dinc. Donc.Dinc. Donc.Dinc. Donc.

“Sorry, me.” “Sorry, me.” “Sorry, me.” “Sorry, me.”   

Oh Marianella.

For CRYING THE FUCK OUT LOUD.

It’s

“I’m sorry. I. Am. Sorry.”

But all I can do is close my eyes, try to breath and hope that the reason she is getting all nervous is because she is hurting me and NOT because she is taking pictures of me and splashing them all about the universe which is what I totally thought she was doing. This is her job and she has been doing this a long time. Nine years already.
That’s a lot of short and curlies.   

Finally it’s over. She packs up the table. Returns it to the spa. Comes back to gather the wax. Her personal belongings. Her phone. Her phone that in her absence rang.

Dinc. Donc. Dinc. Donc. Dinc. Donc.

With what could only be the thousands of FB, Twitter DM’s and BuzzFeed notifications of comments on the photos of my hoo haa she posted as she live blogged  the service.

So  my mind imagines.

And as she gathers up the basket of wax, forgetting her bag and phone she leaves a trail of hot wax starting in my room and winding down the carpeted hallway where I yell to her that she is leaking and she forgot her other stuff and before I know whats happening she is franticly  spraying oil all over the place and rubbing it with a napkin and by now her pants are coated in wax and frayed bits of papertowels, the carpet looks like it isn’t enjoying it’s waxing service either and I’m on the floor in my room rubbing oil into the wax trying to pry it up withmy fingernails and why the fuck am I dealing with this.

A Flustered Marianella leaves .

The Dish is now back in the room.

The door is shut.

And the sound that came next could only be described as someone punting poor Marianella down the laundry shoot but, what ever.  A moment later, the sobbing erupts and I can’t stop my self from pearing through the door and I try to get a picture because if Marianella is live blogging my wax then I sure as hell want  pictures for my blog.  But I refrain.

The sight of Marianella. Crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Sobbing.

With hot wax strewn about like she had tried to wax the Tasmanian Devil was to say the least….

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.

The rest of my stay in Miami, I kept running into Marianella in the hotel and she kept giving me these really creepy stink eye vibes that were a blend of  “il malocchio”, desperation and crazy.

Sorry. Me.


Unrelated footnote: Just in case you’ve been punted down a laundry shoot  since last week go check out the amazing thing that The Bloggess has done. And when you need more inspirational things to read please go vote for me over at Twaggies Caption Contest. Mine starts with “Every freaking time…”  I need that t-shirt.

67 thoughts on “Sorry, Me.

    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Ry Sal Yeah, I think I’m done too. Except for actual room service. That includes complimentary champagne and chocolates to sooth my ragged nerves.

      Reply
  1. miss nikki
    Twitter: MarrBulls

    I never ever ever get tired of waxing stories. Ever.

    p.s. ever.
    p.p.s. waxing stories rule forever
    p.p.p.s. were you afraid I’d say “ever” again?

    Reply
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  3. Holly B

    After having to flee Miami in the middle of a riot by being escorted by SWAT Team members… nothing and I do mean NOTHING surprises me about that hell hole.
    Holly B´s last blog post ..Too FarMy Profile

    Reply
  4. Andrea
    Twitter: alittlebitrock

    Two weeks before my wedding, I had my eyebrows waxed by someone new, and she used the wrong kind of wax and RIPPED THE SKIN OFF MY EYEBROWS. I shall not be waxed again. Because bloody strips of messed up skin along the bikini line would be much worse than a Ben Wallace there.
    Andrea´s last blog post ..Sick of YouMy Profile

    Reply
  5. sparkling74

    What exactly was the Sorry, me all about? Did you ever get that? Was she singing do, re, mi? So weird. And isn’t it just like women to have paid through the nose for a service and then sit around helping the poor girl trying to clean up the mess, instead of enjoying your now hair free nether regions.

    Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Sparkling74 The “sorry, me.” was her apologizing for taking pictures of my hoo haa….Just kidding I hope. But it was her apology to me if she hurt me. How true, I ended up apologizing back to her when helping her out. Sigh.

      Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Vinny C. Now I will be forever paranoid. Did she at least set the montage to a good song? And if I ever run into her again I’m calling the cops.

      Reply
  6. jess

    the last time i went in for a bikini wax, the woman #1) waxed WAAAAAAAY more than i wanted and 2) kept blowing on the wax (and therefor my vag) to get it to dry faster. ummmmm…. yeah. i’m considering home grooming from here on out.
    jess´s last blog post ..half-assed holiday hiatusMy Profile

    Reply
  7. Lizzie

    Oh shit. I’ve had similar horrible experiences but none with phones. I agree with you – I would have thought she was filming the whole thing. Did it at least work out and the strip wax didn’t hurt you?

    Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Lizzie It was an okay wax. I wasn’t bleeding when it was over so there’s that. There was a small bruise. Silver linings are sometimes hard to see.

      Reply
  8. Kernut the Blond
    Twitter: kernut

    Until now I’ve been on the fence about whether or not to try getting a professional waxing. (Tried it once myself, and well, I wouldn’t try it again. Not sober, anyway.) Now, I’m pretty sure I won’t be getting a professional one, either.

    What I really need is a man-slave to do the trimming for me. That’s what I want for Christmas, just in case you were wondering what to get me. ;)
    Kernut the Blond´s last blog post ..Ten Things- Ten Signs Christmas Is ComingMy Profile

    Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Kernut I would expect that it is just my luck and that you would be completely fine. Also pain meds help…A LOT. And don’t we all need a man slave? Lets figure that one out.

      Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Patty Punker No matching drapes, but also not red….I think that would be kind of gruesome looking. We will call it dirty blonde. Just because, why not?

      Reply
  9. dufmanno

    70′s bush beats scalded bits every time. I wish we knew why Marianella was so distraught. Did her little hot wax cart topple all the way over when she was in her crumpled heap in the hallway?
    Every time I get the hot wax treatment I feel dirty. Like my foofy bird is getting all it’s hair ripped off and I’m going nothing to help her while she screams in naked agony.
    Also, I’m always stunned about how nonchalant they are about ripping pubes off your privates. Sort of like, “yeah, if you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all” I imagine I might be traumatized if I had to look at so much hairy crotch during the day.
    I bet they get the shakes every time they see a hamster.
    dufmanno´s last blog post ..Screaming Merry Christmas Into the Gaping VoidMy Profile

    Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Dufmanno Is that what a foofy bird is? I’ve been trying to figure that one out for day’s now, which is like dog years on the internet. Also they do kind of man handle the delicate bits, don’t they?

      Reply
        1. A Vapid Blonde
          Twitter: avapidblonde
          Post author

          Oh my dear lost long Dufmanno. Do you even know how much you are more like my family than my family….Your bird is in my bath right the fuck now. Wacka wacka! Foofy Love! Oh and I may have had a little bit to dring this evening.

          Reply
    1. dufmanno

      Yeah but she was “sorry, me” so I guess it all worked out in the end. Well, except for the sad trail of wax that could be considered representative of the real tears she was crying at the time.
      That and the fact that Vapid’s hoo ha was all mangled and raw because of her lack of professionalism.
      Also, she probably gave her that bubonic plague that confined her to bed for a week.
      I probably shouldn’t blame marionella for ALL the worlds problems but someone has to be the scapegoat.
      dufmanno´s last blog post ..Screaming Merry Christmas Into the Gaping VoidMy Profile

      Reply
  10. Amanda

    As I’m sitting here laughing at your pain and embarrassment, the skin above my lip is still peeling after I donated skin on my last waxing experience. Thank you for making me appreciate the two wax strips that I endure.
    Amanda´s last blog post ..Appetizer ThingiesMy Profile

    Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Amanda First off?! I will never, ever (in the words of Nikkie, EVER) EVER, EVER. EVER! Make fun of anyones wax experience, because after all? My Posts might be horrificaly boring. And holy shit never ever donate skin. My operating motto is “CASH IS KING”

      Reply
      1. Amanda

        How about laughing with you? Better, I hope. And the motherfucker waxing my lip (who I actually like and plan on having wax my lip again in a few weeks) waxed the same place three fucking times because the hair wouldn’t come out. The skin came off, but not the damned hair. However, my eyebrows come magnificently groomed without wax, so I have something to be grateful for.
        Amanda´s last blog post ..Appetizer ThingiesMy Profile

        Reply
        1. A Vapid Blonde
          Twitter: avapidblonde
          Post author

          @Amanda Oh, I didn’t think that you were being mean and laughing “at” me, my reply to you actually doesn’t make much sense when I went back and read it. So please to be ignoring me1 ;- ) Also wouldn’t it be nice if all our lady parts came mgnificently groomed. It would save so much time and embarassment.

          Reply
  11. Jess
    Twitter: fernweher

    SO unprofessional of that Marianella. Since she was crying afterwards I bet the phone was bad personal news, not anything to do with you. But I would worry about bacteria on the phone if she touches it once she has her gloves on and then touches you. Something like that could cause skin irritation or more zits and ingrown hairs, ICK. Hopefully Mariella is now suffering enough in her personal life now to make up for her poor treatment of you during service.
    ALso, did the hotel give you any problems about the wax in the carpet?
    Jess´s last blog post ..Problems with TSA Body ScannersMy Profile

    Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Jess Now I am totally paranoid about bacteria….EW! And the hotel was none the wiser. But she did ask that I review her to the front desk, I thought it best to keep my mouth shut. Oh and the over apologies….I can’t stand that. Someone once told me to stop apologizing (I was his senior at a job) and to just stop doing the thing you are apologizing for. Afuckingmen!

      Reply
    1. A Vapid Blonde
      Twitter: avapidblonde
      Post author

      @Cindy I will try one more place and that will be Bliss Spa….when I am in a city that has them. The wax they use is the best that I’ve found and really if it’s bliss it can’t be all that bad. And Miami was a total trip.

      Reply
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