A Good Waxing Therapist!

I entered the beauty profession tentatively and not without some trepidation and worries.

Being a mature student in a class full of youthful, glowing bodies full of energy and hope was not the easiest of beginnings. But in their true exuberance the girls took me under their wings like some errant mother daring to enter the world of "turning back time".

And so I waded through treatments of manicures, pedicures, tinting, perming, facials and then the bane of my life, waxing.

I hated it! I had buttered thousands of slices of bread in my time, but could I butter a leg? No, No, No! The wax dripped and was either too thick or too thin or too cold and even on occasions, heaven forbid, too hot!

And you may all guess who came to my first client session. The hairy monster from the lagoon of clients! Shaking with fear at the apparition on the couch I proceeded to dip the spatula into the warming wax and sighed with relief as the consitency perfectly wrapped itself around the wood and scraped easily back into the pot. I applied the spatula to the offending leg and it glided somewhat bumpily over the skin. All was well and I started to breathe, luckily.

Next the wax strip. I put it on to the wax and pulled back with a surprising force. The client let out a yelp and proceeded to hurl abuse at me ""****** that hurt! Can't you be a bit ***** quicker?"

I felt the heat rising up my body until it hit my face in a mass of redness (erythema at its best). I apologised and felt all eyes in the room aimed at my next clumsy attempts at waxing the client from hell. But from the depths of my soul I felt an anger rising. I was doing my best. I was a student. What did she expect? After all she had only paid £3 for a full leg wax!

So fuelled with an attitude of defence and retaliation I plunged the spatula into the wax, scraped off one side and buttered the leg with surprising expertise. Wax strip applied I ripped it back like a bat out of hell and proceeded to repeat the process over and over.

The room was quiet and the atmosphere subdued. Perspiration appeared on my brow but I was in it till the end now and my client turned over like a lamb and she uttered now a word when I faltered slightly at the back of the knee.

One hour later I applied soothing after wax and drew the curtains for the client to get dressed. Nothing was said as I stood and waited to give her aftercare advice. She listened, she nodded and dipped into her purse and gave me £2 coin as a tip!

She left with a smile and I was left a legacy of becoming a really good waxing therapist!

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