Too much information

My mom texted me.

"Do you know someone called Brandy? She asked how things with your boyfriend are going." My mom wrote.

My mom has been receiving my texts since my phone started having issues.

"Brandy waxes my vagina," I replied.

Too much information.

I'm on a texting basis with the woman who waxes my vagina.

Too much connection.

My first wax with her, I cried my eyes out. I had to leave and come back after eating a snack.

I didn't go back for almost 1.5 years.

She admitted that I am her only patient that has ever cried on her table.

She told me that it traumatized her. She's never had it happen before.

It's true. I couldn't handle the pain. I asked to leave and take a break to eat a snack. I came back with red puffy eyes and left with an even redder vagina.

And now I go once a month.

And now we text.

She sends me deals on resorts. I send her memes. She asks about my boyfriend. I ask her about her vacation.

The weirdest circumstances can bring people together.

Recent Posts

See All

It's been 10 years since we kissed. 7 since we were married. 3 since we've been divorced. How many lives have we lived?

I stared at the board. Too scared to place the first piece. Too scared to lose. Not knowing which move first. Nothing happened. I hoped the other player would go first. But I had to make the first mov

When do I typically feel the most sad? It’s when I say goodbye. It’s ending a conversation. Leaving the dinner or party. Kissing you at the airport. Hanging up the phone. That’s when I feel the most a