The last year of my marriage was one of the hardest. Bean’s had gone out on disability due to an injury and I picked up my third job to make ends meet.
My newest adventure in the cosmetology world, instructing.
I attained my instructors license and was given my first, very own class.
I had freshman room. That meant I had the students from their first day into the magical land of beauty. I could see from the immediate moment a student touched a head of hair for the first time, if they were going to be in the right field of work or not.
I started the first day of each new class the same way. With a trip to the shampoo bowl. I would have a volunteer sit down, place a towel around their neck and demonstrate the basic art of shampooing. I would turn on the water, grab onto the hose and place the nozzle on the hair.
“OK class!” I would say, “This is the hose. Shampoo and conditioner can make your hands very slippery. At some point in your life you will accidentally let go of the hose. When this happens do NOT try to catch the hose, simply turn the OFF the water.”
After a quick demonstration I let each student take turns washing each others hair. At some point in the process it happens. A student will let go of the hose. The pressure of the water forces the hose in the air while spewing out water like a fire hydrant. The hose resembles a cobra, dancing in the air covering the room and everyone in its path with water. The student, dumb with shock, tries with all her/his might to catch the hose.
This is when I remind his/her stupid ass,
“Simply turn the water off.”
Towards the end of freshman room, right before the jump into the next level, students are taught the basics of waxing. To prepare for this module I went to the beauty supply and bought a wax pot, wax, tongue suppressors, baby powder and cloth strips. Everything needed for a successful wax job. Then I found a model, Beans.
A long, happy hour and several margaritas later I decided to try out my rusty waxing skills. Even though I had been the industry for over a decade, my focus had not been on waxing. I knew the basics but I lacked the practice. So I did what any drunken, unexperienced, husband hating, fat ass would do.
I made Beans cry.
First I put down a big sheet on the bed. I heated up my little wax pot to max temperature. I had Beans lay face up on the sheet and sprinkled baby powder all over his beastly chest. Oh wait, no I didn’t! I forgot that important step! Instead, I picked up a tongue suppressor and started smearing hot wax all over the beans chest rug. He screamed out in pain. I told him to suck it up and quit being a pussy. I’m sure I had the wax setting up too high because his skin looked like it was starting to blister. I smiled to myself. Once the wax was on him, I laid the strips on top of the wax and rubbed them down smoothly. I then prepped his skin by stretching it firmly before quickly ripping off the strips. No, wait, I forget that step too! I just pulled the strips away while giggling, ripping off chunks of skin along with the hair. Beans was now bleeding. Not wanting me to think he was a wimp he stayed there and let me continue my torture. I was enjoying this very much so. After about a half an hour, blistered and bloody, Beans had had enough.
After I ripped off that first strip of wax off of Beans leg, he jumped off the bed and screamed,
He ran down the stairs and hid from me.
I wasn’t done yet, I still had both of his furry legs to do! Alas, there was no way he was going to let me touch him again with any wax. We had a similar experience years prior with a manicure and finger nail nippers after a few too many martinis (but that’s another story).
Heh heh heh. I really didn’t do it entirely on purpose, though, I did enjoy inflicting the torture. I’m just a really bad waxer.
Still, I had a class to teach.
So, I did what any smart, student caring educator would do in my position. I asked the Aesthetic’s instructor if I could bring my class to her room for a demonstration near the end of the module. Ms.Veronica agreed.
I warned my students in advance about this change. They asked me what we would he waxing. I told them the usual, arm pits, legs and maybe eyebrows or lips.
A few weeks later I took my class into the aesthetician class room. Ms. Veronica had a bed set up in the middle of the room with chairs all around it. She instructed my students to take the seats closest to the bed. They did and I took a standing position behind them.
One of Ms.Veronicas students volunteered to be the waxing model. Excitedly she made her way to the front of the class. She approached the bed.
That’s when it happened.
The student dropped her pants and her underwear exposing her Furby. She climbed up on the bed and without and hesitation at all spread her legs.
My students gasped, little Maria turned red and put her hands over her eyes. One student turned to me pleading,
I did what any stunned and confused, curious, vagina entranced person would do, I “shhhhh’d” her!
You see, in all my years in the field I myself had never seen a brazilian wax preformed. I figured hey, at least these students would have a better education than most of their peer’s. Plus I was new at all this and not sure what I was supposed to teach. Ms.Veronica had been teaching for over 20 years, she wouldn’t steer me wrong. Right?
Ms. Veronica was Russian. She still had the accent. Her voice was stern and loud.
“OK class!” she started, “Let me tell you de first thing about de vagina! De vagina is STUPID! When I touch de vagina it gets wet. It thinks I’m a man! First we must powder the vagina to dry it out. De wax will not stick to any skin that is moist!”
Ms. Veronica then grabs a bottle of baby powder and sprinkles it onto her students fuzzy peach.
“OK class! Next we get de wax and test it to make sure it’s not too hot.”
She did such.
“Now, we take de wax and smooth it onto the skin. First let me pull de skin tightly. Look here at de fold of de vagina.”
Ms. Veronica now pulls on the lip of her students vagina exposing the soft pink skin inside.
“Dis skin is very thin. Make sure you do not get wax in this tender area or you will make her bleed.”
Ms. Veronica reached for her wax, then she stopped.
“Ohhhhh! Look at dat!” she exclaimed. “I just pulled de vagina and already it got excited! See, its all wet. Stupid vagina! It tinks’ im a man! MORE POWDER!”
Ms. Veronica continued her demonstration. She applied the wax, then she grabbed the strip and pulled it off. Along with the strip came the wax and a good section of pubic hair. This was soft wax. A little too soft I suppose.
That’s when it happened.
A little chunk of pubic encrusted wax came off the strip and was flung weightlessly into the air.
It landed on Maria’s shirt. Maria was horrified.
“Ms. Veronica! Some wax just hit me! Can you get it off?” Maria begged.
“You be Quiet, Maria! You are interrupting class! I will get it for you after de demonstration!”
In desperation, Maria looked back at me. I gave her a stern look that advised she listen to Ms. Veronica.
The demonstration lasted another hour. Maria continuously looking at her shirt then looking back at me every so often. Poor Maria. She sat there holding back her gag reflex for the remainder of the class.
Then it was break time. Maria waited patiently for Ms. Veronica to scrape her shirt clean but Ms. Veronica disappeared. She was in the teachers lounge eating her dinner.
I hadn’t realized this was happening because I had stepped out for a cigarette break myself. When I noticed Maria was still pubic ridden I went on a hunt for Veronica. I found Veronica in the lunch room. She said she would remove the wax after break and she kept her promise. After all what was twenty more minutes at this point.
I was disgusted for Maria but I was also secretly laughing to myself a little.
After break the Students met back in class and Maria was wiped clean. It was now time for the practical part of the class. Groups were then formed. Two of my students were matched up with one of Ms. Veronicas students and put into private waxing rooms to try out what they just learned on each other. This is when I bailed. As my poor students were searching for me to help them, I realized I really knew nothing about this subject and didn’t want to hurt their learning process. Plus I had had my fill of pussy for the day. I told them to go to Ms. Veronica for help and I hid outside smoking cigarettes and texting the details to Beans for the last two hours of school.
The last few weeks of the module were hell. My class had lost respect for me, they no longer took instruction and most of their grades suffered because of it.
I knew then that teaching was not my calling.
Two white Kia’s, both driven by old, blonde women.
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