Wednesday, September 20, 2006

20-something Hotties

Explain it to me if you will.

Why is it the age of women who provide services for you has decreased?

Why is it said women have become more and more beautiful?

Is it possible (shush...I know that not only is it possible, but it's *why* it's happening) that I've reached the age where everyone now appears young enough to be my child?

I used a waxing professional in Portland - let's call her Aunt Sandy. Aunt Sandy looked like just that...someone's Aunt. Middle-aged, thick sandy blonde hair to her shoulders that had just the right amount of wave, a pair of cheaters (half glasses) that sat low on her nose.

I entered Aunt Sandy's shop and was nervous until I met her. I realized having her wax my hoo-haw was really no big deal.

Then I began working at Company South and could no longer make my appointments in Portland, so I searched for a waxing professional who could accommodate lunch hour appointments.

I walked into this new salon with a certain amount of ease built right in. Then entered Hot Young Thing. Yep, you got it. 22 years old. Firm, full breasts. Long straight hair with just the right amount of highlights. Long eyelashes. A tattoo on the small of her back (cut to Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn in Wedding Crashers). Tan skin...

Suddenly the thought of opening my legs for a Brazilian wax caused everything within me to tighten with anxiety. I'm old enough to be this young girl's mother and she's going to get up close and personal with a particular area of my body that I'd ordinarily not let someone her age see.

Please understand I'm not normally an uptight person. In fact, most would say I am the exact opposite when it comes to things like this. And don't get me wrong - I didn't shy away from the fact that I was about to open up my goody-box (as we call it in my family) to be (((ahem))) serviced. Being the mature adult that I am I sucked it up and proceeded as planned.

I did, however, apologize for the fact that she was going to be so up close and personal with such an intimate area. I also thanked her for doing so.

She responded and told me about how when she first started waxing she was amazed by all the different ways a woman's anatomy looked and found it fascinating. Said she'd go home and tell her fiance' all about it. Now, however, you've seen one - you've seen them all.

There was a dozen different ways for me to refute this particular argument but I decided it would have been a point wasted on a 22 year old straight girl.

I managed through that appointment and all my subsequent waxing appointments. She does a great job and we've become friendly with each other. She more so with me for obvious reasons.

Fast-forward to today when I had my gallbladder ultrasound.

I'm in the waiting room and in walks this stunning beauty. Average height, thin build, long straight blonde hair, blue eyes, beautiful skin and teeth and probably in her mid'ish 20's. I thought she was going to take me back into the room and leave me with Ursula the Ultrasound Tech.

Not the case.

"If you could just remove your top and leave your bra on..."

At least I wore a really pretty bra today.

"And put this gown on, open in the back... I want to make sure I don't get lube on your clothes..."
Umm hmm. Lube on my clothes. I'm sorry but where's the problem?? (((giggle))).

"We'll get started..."

And that we did.

I laid back on the table and the laughter I had going on in my head about how she had no idea of how what she was saying could be misconstrued was gone.

It was at this moment that I became very cognizant of my age. I have the over 40 mid-section that needs a little attention. I have laugh lines on my face - each one earned. I was old enough to be her mother. I was laying here assessing this 20-something hotty x-raying my body.

Everyone looks younger now. Everyone is so into life and planning their future - all futures that have crossed my path and thankfully so I might add. I'm grateful for the sweet young things that do for me the things I won't or can't do. But gone are the days of objectifying them the way I used to. Now I just feel like a gross ol' lesbian when I do it. Unless of course I have someone with me and we're objectifying them together. Then it becomes people-watching.

You didn't seriously think I'd stop checking people out did you? It's true I am old enough to be a mother to some of them. But I'm not... and that, my pretty...is the key.

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