"the complete"

so in this land where porn is banned, public displays of affection are illegal, sexuality is suppressed, and the women are entirely covered, quiet, and subdued as shadows, if the vaginas could talk, they would probably write a musical....

this i can report after a trip to the beauty salon in preparation for my weekend in paris. as we all know, a romantic weekend rendezvous with one's lover in the city of love certainly calls for a little tidying up, so i went in to have my eyebrows shaped, my toes prettied, my fingernails french manicured (in honour of the occasion) and to endure hot wax being poured over tender skin so my public hair can be more thoroughly removed. now the fact that waxing even developed as a culturally acceptable practice is a bit odd if you think about it... how did anyone ever, ever get the idea in the first place?!?! what a sicko. and my heart goes out to whoever the brave waxing pioneer women were who experimented with temperature and strength of the yanking of the paper to rip out the hair and all the other subtle unspeakables involved. anonymous sisters they shall remain, but they did us all a great service....

but i digress. i was sent to a salon & a woman - lakshmi - recommended by a friend. as she got down to business and we made the usual small talk [how odd is it by the way that we attempt to carry on meaningless, polite banter with someone who is erstwhile pouring hot wax over our genitalia?!? terribly awkward], she asked what i wanted. i mumbled something about just tidy up, when lakshmi interrupted, saying, in a singsong indian accent "do you want the complete, madam?" i looked confused. "ahhhh," she sighed, shaking her head, "you do not know the complete; many of you english, they do not know the complete when they come. but all the qataris they do the complete. all the locals do the complete. and then after they know, the english they do the complete too and they like it." i asked for clarification that the complete really meant, well, the complete. she assured me it did. and she also let me know that many of the qataris not only did the complete, but would come in for full body waxes - everywhere. which i found a horrific notion. lakshmi said it was very tiring for her.

never one to forgo a cultural experience, after some hesitation, i told lakshmi to go for it, that i wanted the complete. i lay back and braced myself. she paused and asked whether i was married, wand of hot wax poised above me. i decided now was not the time to upset the lady, so i said i was engaged. she said, "oh, so you will be married" and this seemed to satisfy her. then she began.

the complete was, well, it was complete. very thorough. very, very painful. i never imagined that in my lifetime another woman would be in those places, especially not one armed with medieval torture tools, but ooh, the things we do for beauty..... [to be born woman is to know - although they do not talk of it at school - that we must labour to be beautiful ... but who knew the qataris had it on the brazilians in this dept?]

i survived, managed to collect my dignity and my tender bits and drive directly to a ramadan tent reception at the US ambassador's house, where i sipped tea and smiled nicely. as with most mixed events, the qatari men generally do not bring their wives to such things, so the crowd was heavily masculine and the women tended to be foreigners, so the vaginas in the room would have had the typical vagina conversation if they could talk..... however, i couldn't help but wonder then, and in certain moments since, what sort of chaos and cacophony of sounds would be uttered by a room full of qatari completes.....

excessive information indicative of excessive affection,
mattie