I wanted to see Marie. Marie shares my indifference to makeup and general disdain for the excesses of the beauty industry. Marie has also been divorced. She has been through the "first sex after" thing, and could maybe help me understand it all.
Marie was not working, so I went to Rana. Rana's appeal was that I didn't know her very well. Also, being European, I thought maybe she would be supportive of an adult woman who still wanted to keep some pubic hair.
Just as I expected, Rana worked quickly, efficiently -- I hardly thought about the fact that a relative stranger was looking at a part of my body that I rarely looked at. I was telling her about my "sex date" and letting her talk me into a French bikini with a little off the top, rather than the very modest bikini wax I had planned.
I told her, "Nothing off the labia," but when she gave me the mirror, I saw that half my outer labia was raw, red, and stripped of hair.
"My god," I said, "that looks so weird!"
Rana transformed into the Angry Romanian. She snapped off her gloves. "You mean 'clean.' 'Clean' is the word you're looking for." She gave me curt instructions for caring for my skin then left the room so I could dress.
I looked again at my half-naked labia. Weird. Weird is what I meant.
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