When the Smoke Clears

In today’s episode we take you to a softly lit room, new age music droning on the overhead speakers as I laid down on the examination table. Mai knelt down in front of me, her brown eyes a reassuring calm. Mai was originally from Korea, having moved to the U.S. many years ago. She was a specialist, her soft face and features even more beautiful than many women half her age as her smile has withstood the test of time, betrayed in the slight creases framing her eyes. There is something about an older woman who displays inner beauty coupled with life’s experiences.

“You feel good now, yes?”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied, chin hanging off the edge of the table. I use “ma’am” and “sir” with many people I know out of habit. Occasionally I do it just to drive the Sergeant Major crazy, too, but he has figured out it’s deliberate. However, Mai had a presence and an energy that the honorific I gave was out of an instinctive respect. We had only just met a few minutes before.

Mai put a warm, reassuring but gloved hand on my back and pulled over the examination light. On the floor I saw my head silhouetted in a harsh fluorescent glow.

“Yes. Yes. I see,” Mai whispered as her commentary on my examination continued. “You have scar here. Why?”

“I had a spot removed and biopsied a few months ago.”

“… and?”

“It was negative. No cancer.”

“Good. That good. Okay. I think maybe yes we help here, here, not so much here, you no problem here, but here too,” she analyzed as her hands ran across my back. “Most men have many problem here, but no you. Not bad.”

I appreciated the comment. Mai, removed her gloves, washed her hands again, regloved, then stepped behind me. Moments later I felt a very warm liquid soothing my back, my shoulders, my spine.

“Too hot?”

“Oh no, it feels great,” I said, eyes closed. I was nervous, but I had committed to trying this treatment.

“Good. We wait few second more,” Mai told me. The scent of some chemicals tainted with lilacs started to drift towards my face.

“Okay, this some pain now I think,” Mai warned me, her hands along my spine between my shoulder blades.

—
*Holy Crap, What Was I Thinking? Rrrrrrippp. That wasn’t so bad, a little sting, but before I knew it Mai had her hands all over, fast like a demon and the ripping sounds increased, and suddenly those hands were up to my neck, first a pressing and then a rip. Good lord, I thought, I agreed to this?

I was doing fine until a few years ago when adulthood finally set in. Testosterone, that wonderful growth hormone that makes us big and strong, and drives us forward, continued to drive my follicle growth forward. I started getting a little hair on my upper shoulders and along the back of my neck. Never a problem for me before, I decided I wanted to try life without it and without trying to shave it myself. Plus, with a blogmeet coming up, one NEVER knows what might happen at those things so I want to be somewhat less undesirable. So I asked a friend. You know you are very good friends with a guy when you can talk to each other about hair removal and waxing and not worry about what he might think or vice versa.

Riiiippp. I saw stars.

He recommended this place so I thought since I intended to take this day away from work gasp and not even look at my email… and trust me, I am constantly tempted to check things… I would go to this nice spa and relax, get treated well and also see what this whole “waxing” thing was like and what the after-effects might be. Really, friends, it’s just research.

“Good, that side done.” That side? THAT SIDE? Oh, no. I am a particularly Magnum P.I.-chested kind of man. That is NOT coming off, certainly not with some paraffin. Mai started rubbing my other shoulder and I felt the hot wax massaged in. Ahhh… she was just talking about the right half.

“More hurt,” she warned. It’s not so much the middle of the back that is painful, it’s when she was close to the sides. Thanks to a bad blow to the head many years ago, part of my pain response is a bit rewired. I don’t feel as much pain as others and sometimes it’s misinterpreted as pleasure.

“I look.” The exam light came back out. She wasn’t satisfied. A little more warmth, a little more… wait… that was in the middle of my spine and it felt good, but I saw a white light at the same time. Yep, brain misfired. Not good.

“There. You sit up now.” I did as ordered. Mai pulled her light around and looked at my arms. “I make better here, too, what you think?”

Arm hair is something I’ve always had. Never a problem, but what the heck. She offered to include it and from what I saw it was normally an additional charge. I know a bargain when I see one. A few more applications and tearing of hair from flesh and I was allll smooooooth. Thank goodness Mai told me to lie back down. I think I was about to pass out.

“There, this sting some but feel good too,” Mai said as she massaged a soothing antiseptic cream into my shoulders. It was like aftershave, only better. Strong hands too. I wondered what a deep tissue massage under Mai’s care would be like. Heaven, I imagine, but I was not scheduled for it today.

“You big man…” Great, she thought I was fat… “with little waist…” whoa! now Mai just earned her tip. I don’t care if it isn’t true, it’s what I wanted to hear right then.

Now I sit, back slightly afire, though in some ways feeling wonderful, telling you my dirty secrets. I trust you won’t share this with anyone…

So, men, don’t complain when women sometimes refuse to constantly maintain their hair removal regimen. It’s not all fun and games. However, you CAN do something to take care of yourself once in a while. A day spa is not a bad place at all. Just, you know, don’t tell anyone about it. Next thing you know you’ll be telling people about your sexy man-shoes, and THAT’S when things get weird.

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