How does your (lady) GARDEN GROW?
A few years ago I went for a bikini wax. On spying my unkempt nethers, the young technician teetered back in alarm. Admittedly, it was a wilderness down there (with three young children, I barely had time to tend to my head hair, let alone anything else). But still, it was only harmless pubic hair, not a wolverine about to rear up and bite her. Wincing visibly, she trimmed it with scissors held at arm’s length before the actual waxing could commence.
Humiliated, I switched to shaving whenever I needed
