So I got this from a myspace connection (thanx Amy O, whom I still have yet to meet), supposedly came from LA craigslist. Who knows if it’s real or not. I have yet to go to Vietnam, and this does seem to have been written from the perspective of a woman, but I consider it a testimony to ‘asian genital sensitivity’ I have enjoyed elsewhere in the region and simply want to pass on the knowledge to any who may not realize. Consider this fiction if you’d like, just consider it…

You Rule, Vietnamese Waxer Lady

Date: 2006-03-15, 3:44PM PST

My regular waxer was not available and I just could not bear the wild, untamed amazon bush jungle that my, well, bush had become for another day.

So I came to you on my lunch hour, Anonymous Vietnamese Waxer Lady who works at the cheapie nail place. We were mere strangers before this afternoon, but after knowing you only an hour, I feel like I must point out the reasons why you rule.

When it was necessary to get on all fours to do the “taint” part of the wax, you applied the wax so delicately to my bunghole, then asked, in what I assumed were two of the only five English words you know, “Too hot?” I responded yes, it was too hot. And without hesitation, you blew on it to cool the hot wax. YOU BLEW ON MY BUNGHOLE, Vietnamese Waxer Lady. Do you know how special that is? Nobody blows on the bung. Nobody.

Since you were a bit clumsy with the wax, there were many bits leftover that did not get taken up onto the “Strip of Doom” as I like to call it. So without any sort of trepidation whatsoever, you happily took a cotton ball and dug the wax out of my vaginal canal yourself. How did you manage to do that without making me feel the least bit uncomfortable, Vietnamese Waxer Lady? Were you a gynecologist back in Vietnam and they wouldn’t let you practice medicine in the United States when you immigrated here, and so now you wax pubes for a living? I know that kind of thing happens all the time, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all to know this occupation has not been your first foray into coochdom. And I know this is totally inappropriate, but I even started to feel, dare I say, a tiny bit frisky from the action. You just seemed to know my vagina so very well. Almost like you were two old friends, and I was this new acquaintance showing up to lunch with you and my vagina, but then was all like “Oh. I see you two have already met.”

Since you don’t speak much English, you had to motion to me where to place my legs in the air to best reach the “corner” as you called it. Most people would have been uncomfortable with their legs in the air and then having their butt cheeks spread further apart, mere centimeters from the face of a stranger. But you smiled at me and with a subtle expression, indicated that you, too, felt my pain. You should give lessons to medical students, Vietnamese Waxer Lady, on how to have good bedside manner. Or I guess in your case, ass-side manner.

I thanked you with a good tip, but I want to thank you here, publicly, for your selfless action, and for doing your part on behalf of all humanity to keep my pubes under control.

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