I share waaaaaaay too much with y'all.

or you guys. whatever.

So I had an appointment today to get my eyebrows and upper lip waxed. (I am Indian. I am fuzzy. Stop laughing lots of women do it.) and Lemon texts me on the way there. He asked if I was busy... I say "getting waxed" he says "where?" and I say "not there"

You know where there is.

So I tried a new salon and I was pleasantly surprised. A lot of upper end salons close on Mondays- so it was great that this place was open. I had to try a new one because I am the worst at planning anything in advance. Yes I was off from work most of last week. NO, I could not be bothered to have done this then. The girl I had did a good job, she's great with the wax. Coming from me, that is quite a compliment because my tolerance for pain (much like my patience) is acutally negative. I have none. I have less than none. Hence, the negative.

So as Lemon brought it up, it was fresh in my mind. I asked if they were a "full-service" salon. She says "yes". We had a rapport, we are cool. She was most impressed that my makeup stayed put... and then I had to tell her I wasn't wearing any. She asks "are you married?" I say no. she says "I will not do a Brazillian wax on you. I'm sorry I like you too much" I am confused.

Apparently, more than a few of the girls she has Brazillian waxed keep popping up pregnant. She says she could not in good conscience put me in a position that I may acquire a "baby's daddy". I laughed so hard I cried.