Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Down on Bended Knee

Warning: Some readers may find today's post offensive. If you're easily offended, stop reading NOW.

The world is filled with strange folks, and yesterday I met one.

Manning the reception desk at the salon yesterday, I fielded a call from a guy wanting to know if we would do a "Brazilian" wax on a man. (For the uninitiated, this means the complete removal of pubic hair.) After consulting one of our estheticians, I replied that we would. He sounded a little embarassed as he explained that his girlfriend wanted him to do this.

Whatever.

Although she had appeared to be completely unconcerned about the prospect when the guy was on the phone, the esthetician was totally unnerved when the man turned out to be. . .shall we say. . .mature. After she settled him in a room to undress, she stepped into the room where I was getting a massage. (This is very poor salon etiquette and told me she was seriously troubled by the situation.)

"This one's weird," she breathed, in shocked tones. "Has to be. He must be fifty. At least fifty."

Now, I don't know if she thought he was too old to be concerned with how he looked down there or what, but his age undid her. Somehow, it didn't seem the time to point out that I'm 52.

The 20-something massage therapist working on my back smiled at her encouragingly. "Don't worry. It's the same equipment," he murmured. "Only wrinklier."

From my face-down, prone position on the massage table, I squirmed to look up at her. SRY is a 6-ft tall woman who works out. The guy was 5 ft 4 at best. The fact is, if he got fresh, she could put some serious hurt on him, but I wasn't about to suggest that. Instead I assured her that if the situation became even slightly uncomfortable, all she had to do was step out of the room and get me. I would take it from there.

After SRY and the massage therapist left the room, I scrambled up from the table and got ready to take charge if necessary.

We listened discreetly from the hallway a couple of times, but all we heard was silence. For 45 minutes. Silence.

After she was finished, we got the details. He had not said a word, never even gasped as she ripped out every single hair from his genital area.

"He had a hard-on the whole time," she whispered before he emerged from the room.

I found this surprising—waxing is, after all, painful—but not shocking. SRY is a gorgeous, exotic-looking African American woman who carries herself like a queen. He was naked in front of her. Not easy, I'm guessing.

It was only later, after he was out of the building, that she confided The Guy had experienced more than a hard-on. In fact, let's just say his cup runneth over. Twice.

EEEECCCKKKKK!

Thank God the salon was empty except for employees when we heard this. The news of his response elicited squeals and squeaks and loud gasps of "Gross!" from everyone who heard it. For a few minutes there was general hilarity wrapped in shock. Then someone asked SRY what she did.

"Just wiped it up with a towel and went on," she replied.

SRY's grace under fire stunned me.

Then another thought popped up. I was now faced with DNA-encrusted linens and no idea what to do. No idea, except that I wasn't about to ask an employee to touch the stuff.

After a couple unpleasant moments considering my options, I marched resolutely to the back of the spa, armed with trash bags and extra-strength disinfectant. Turning a trash bag inside out as though I were about to remove doggie poo, I trapped the dirty towels and so forth, tied them up, and took them to the dumpster outside. If I'd had a biohazard container, I would have used it. There was no way I was putting that stuff into our washing machine.

Next, I disinfected every surface those linens had touched. Finally, I turned to the trash containers in the room. A small, open can held the gloves SRY had been wearing, which she described as being "covered in nasty white-boy cum." It also held dozens of strips of muslin coated in wax and the pubic hair of a stranger. I knelt in front of the can, trying to get the liner out without touching anything more than necessary.

There are many, many things I've imagined doing with my life. This was definitely NOT among them. Pondering this, my mind leaped to a much-treasured family story, and my sense of humor carried me away. For several minutes, all I could do was laugh helplessly.

During the Depression, my grandfather and grandmother and several of their siblings traveled to Sarcoxie, Missouri to pick strawberries. It was hot, hard work and far from home, but it was paid work, and most of them were glad to have it. One day, my grandmother (who was about 7 months pregnant) stood up to stretch and try to straighten her back. From the row beside her, she heard her brother, George, muttering to himself.

George was what was then known as a "dandy." Today he'd probably be called a metrosexual: heterosexual but very vain and careful with his appearance. Even picking strawberries, he was dressed in his finest and his hair was oiled and carefully arranged. The words Grandma overheard became a family legend.

"Here I am, a man of my abilities, down on my bended knee. Picking these goddamned little red sons a bitches."

Like George, I didn't love the task before me. After all, only last week I was in NY being carted around in limos and treated like a princess at the taping of a national tv show.

And now, here I was, a published author, down on my bended knee. Picking up these little hairy white sons a bitches.

Laughed til I cried. The staff thought I finally absolutely lost my mind, but I didn't explain. Just cleaned up the mess and went on, taking myself more lightly than before I remembered Uncle George.

10 comments:

The Geezers said...

Now, this is my kind of spa.

What is the name of this particular service item?

And how much does it cost?

I imagine you're probably contemplated a name change for the establishement:

"Best little S & M parlor in K.C."

Michelle O'Neil said...

All I can say is poor SRY! I think I would have thrown up, and run out of there screaming!

Poor you on clean-up too.

Yeck!

Jerri said...

When we were done with the whole thing, someone suggested SRY and I needed a good, stiff drink.

We both thought we were done with all things stiff for a while.

I'm with you, Michelle. I'd have been out of there so fast the door might have flown off it's hinges.

liz elayne lamoreux said...

wow. i am laughing with little tears in my eyes. the poise of SRY in the midst of that...is well...remarkable. i can't even imagine what i would have done. twice? wow.
i love the way you connected this story to the story of your uncle. fantastic.

Suzy said...

OKAY- First of all- LMAO!!
Second, And let's be honest Madam, I mean Jeri! WHERE Do you work???????
We have places like this in CT-
"King's Ransom" - "Where you're just not another piece of meat".
Don't get me started.....
GREAT POST!! This one will be a "hard" act to follow. HAHAHAHAHA

Mike said...

To me, the most funny part of the story was that SRY just wiped the stuff up and then continued working....twice! (I wonder if she`ll write this experience into her resume.)

Sorry for your troubles but it`s funny!

~Nancy~ said...

Jeez...older and more wrinkled but obviously in GREAT working order! TWICE in 45 minutes, under duress?!

Jeeeeez! I am in awe!

Great story.....tops any of my nursing tales I encountered during many years of bed baths, foley catheters and other asundry "personal" tasks. The closest I can "come" to that one is a patient I was attending as a student (green and scared!)...he "performed" in similar fashion before me and all I was doing was cleaning out his NOSE! He did have some brain damage so I excused him on that account.

Thanks for making me giggle....I needed it!

(I missed a post or two along the way....what TV show and why? Sorry if I am missing the obvious.)

Jerri said...

Oh, Nancy--you made me laugh almost as hard as I did yesterday thinking about Uncle George.

And all you wre doing was cleaning out his nose!! I've seen pictures on your blog and girl, you are gorgeous--but even so that's amazing.

Two weeks ago today I wa sin NY taping an appearance on House Smarts, an NBC show hosted by Lou Manfredini. Publicizing one of my new decorating books. My first national tv spot, so it was really exciting.

~Nancy~ said...

Ooooo...I have to know how to find your book! I LOVE home decorating and would love to have some new tips, especially from someone who is as "real" and charming as you! I like "Martha" but she's a little *hard* for me....
We are getting ready to buy house number 2 and I want a new, fresh look for the house in NC. The house here is "done".
You are a sweetie....and thanks for the compliment.

Oh, and yes....all I was doing was boogie hunting and he experienced an, um, "emission". Rather stunning education for a green, scared 20 yr. old nursing student!

Tongue in Cheek Antiques said...

Lol and saying eek at the same time! Of all the things I thought this story might say, this was not one of them!! I would have had to leave the room!! So he came for the pleasure of waxing? UGH!
Poor you having to clean up after that!!