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July 21, 2010

The Wax Museum

Austin Powers has always been a bit of an inspiration to me.

The reasons:

A) He has crooked teeth and a hairy chest - just like I do.

B) He gets girls even with those repulsive traits - just like I would like to do.

You see, Austin Powers made me believe I could get a girl despite having teeth a gorilla would be ashamed of and chest hair it'd be jealous of.  Mr. Powers brought hope to my lonely heart.

And then Nathan Ballard took it.

"That was in the 70's man. Girls were different back then."

Oh yeah. Crap.

Thus I came to a crossroad in my life. To win a girlfriend I had to remedy one of these problems via braces or a chest waxing. Helping me decide between the two options were the facts that

1) I hate dentists (orthodontists, whatever)
2) my younger sister needed someone to wax for her college class, and
3) it would cost me nothing to have the wax job done.

Thus it was that I decided to follow Robert Frost down the road less traveled. (You can monitor my facebook relationship status to see if it makes 'all the difference'.)

For your convenience I kept a running diary (Bill Simmons style) of the waxing in its entirety, starting at 2:25 p.m, when I left work to go to my sister's class.

Me:  "Hey boss, is it alright if I get off work a couple hours early today?"
Boss:  "Yeah, that's fine. What are you heading off to?"
Me:  "Well, nothing much, just stuff, you know, getting my chest waxed."
Boss:  (Silence)

Note to future accountants: this is not the best way to build credibility among your pocket-protected peers.

Arrive at the classroom. The instructor remarks that my hair may need to be trimmed beforehand if it's too long. I remove my shirt. "Yup, someone bring me the scissors," she commands. Ugh. Off to a bad start.

Four college girls rub hot, sticky goo onto my stomach. Hmmm. Not such a bad start after all.

I realize one of these girls is my sister. Man, I really need to get Lasik.

One of the girls informs me that I will not be able complete my dream of having all my chest hair removed and treasured on one giant strip. Sorry mom, you won't be getting that rug I talked about for Christmas after all.

Attractive girl:  "Here's a hand towel. You can bite it or mop your eyes with it once we start pulling."
Me:  (Gulp)

After 24 years of peaceful living, the first six-inch strip of hair is ripped from my skin. Pain. Blood. Agony. Why would you do this to me attractive girl?!? Whyyyyy!?!

Tattoo Girl:  "Getting a tattoo on your chest hurts a lot more you know."
More hairs extracted. More dots of blood.
Me:  "I don't believe you."

On the bright side, my upper chest is completely hair free.
On the dark side, I may be missing a nipple.

Phew. Still attached.

Instructor: "Sweat is our enemy. Cool him down with the fan."
How bout that? Apparently having burning wax glued to my body and then yanked off makes me sweat. You learn something new every day.

50 strips, 55 minutes, 1 pint of sweat and 4 girls later, my stomach is almost done being weeded. Maybe if I'd thought of this a year ago there would no such thing as Sister Deem ...

Mission complete. My stomach is as smooth as a rock. Well, a soft, pudgy rock anyway. Regardless, Chester the molester is no more.

I would include a pre-wax picture here for comparison, but this is a family-friendly site.


The most frequent question I've been asked post-waxing is if I thought the procedure was worth it. I respond that it was painful. It was embarrassing. I now itch all the time. And true, my man-breasts are more prominent than ever, being no longer concealed by hair. But, yes, it was worth it in every sense.

Anything that gets you off work early always is.


  1. Oh, boy. This is something I have scheduled with Malorie in the coming weeks. A good chest waxing. She has waxed my lower back and unibrow on many occasions. I had to be her straight-razor guinea pig when she was in school. It was painful to get shaved by what is essentially a large knife.

  2. The minute by minute account made all the differnce. Clever writen post, my friend. Glad you still have that nipple.