You and your tits are better than that

The other day a girl came into my work to get her brows done. She looked pretty much exactly like this:

Except she had her hair pulled back and was wearing a halter top with leggings and platform heels. Her tits were INSANE in a way that that can’t really be described as attractive. My receptionist said they looked painful. She was a really, really pretty girl. Gorgeous eyes, delicate elfin features. A beautiful girl. A girl who had spray tanned herself brown, coated her eyes in so much mascara that they look like furry spider legs and had gotten an intensely large boob job.

I am fine with all that. If it makes you happy, get it, girl.

But then we started talking.

“Before you start I just want to ask if it’s okay to wax after you get Botox.”

“How long ago was it?”

“A week ago.”

“That’s fine, as long as it wasn’t today”

At this point I pause to look down at the placid lake that is her forehead. Smooth, serene, not a ripple or wrinkle to speak of. Not even a whisper of one.

“Girl…your forehead is flawless. And how old are you anyway??”

“I’m 22. I had this deep frown line between my bros and my boyfriend told me I needed to fix it.”

I stare down at the point in question and can’t make out even a faint hint of a line. Botox does not magically *poof* erase your lines. It takes a while to work since it’s paralyzing your muscles. Your muscles need to not be moving for a while in order for the wrinkle to lessen. Couple that with the fact that deep wrinkles can’t be fixed by Botox. A filler would have to be injected into the  crease and then Botox would be used to ensure you wouldn’t re-wrinkle the recently filled line.

The point? Girl never had a fucking wrinkle there to start with. If she did it was only there when she frowned. But her boyfriend hounded her about it enough that she went off to the doctor and had herself injected.

Okay….not good.

But it got worse. Talk turned to men and relationships.

“He’s been trying to get me to swing with him lately. And like, I dunno. I’m fun as fuck in bed and I’m really freaky but I just figure that no matter what he’s gonna get bored and cheat on me…so I might as well go along with this and try it out.”

Here’s me :

I couldn’t think of what to say for a good 30 seconds. So she carried on….

“We’re going to Vegas this weekend and we’re gonna go like, hunt for girls to take home. And you know, I’ll try it and see if I like it I guess. Men are just gonna cheat anyway, you know? So….”

“Um, babe, there are plenty of men out there that wouldn’t cheat on you, ever. That would look at you like you’re the only girl in the room at all times.”

“Yeah…I know. Maybe I should leave him.”

“Do you love him?”

She laughes.

“I don’t know, I mean, not really. I could use someone new.”

My face:

Her face: 

My job is bringing out this mama lion in me that I NEVER knew was in there. Between girls like her, 13 year olds getting brazilians, 20 year olds dating men in their forties and high school girls with boyfriends who complain when the girl has any pubic hair at all…..UGH.

It’s not that I want to tell these girls that they shouldn’t have sex. I know that they’re going to have sex and they’re going to do it younger and younger. These girls are just exaggerated versions of what my friends and I were. More well groomed, more developed, working faster and going down harder. We all did what they did…with less polish…with less maturity.

What’s scaring me about these girls is how completely confident they are. They just don’t give a fuck. At all. It’s terrifying.

I wanted to grab Titty McTits, stare into her overly make up eyes and scream at her,

“You’re worth more than this! You’re better than this!”

I want to help these girls learn the hard lessons about being female and what sexuality means and learn them way sooner than I did. But I realize that as a 31 year old woman I am incredibly OLD to these girls. Go ahead, ask a 17 year old what old is, they’ll say 30. No teenage girl wants to listen to an adult. Because this is the point when they are convinced that we’re prude squares who don’t know shit.

And to some extent, that’s true. I am a prude square in comparison to these girls.

But I have a system for these girls now. I always take off my sweater so they see my tattoos. I call them “girl” and make them laugh by making silly comments about boys. I ask about their dating lives and I don’t shoot down what they tell me. I gain their trust (moderately easy to do while touching someone’s vagina) and when they come in again, I slip a few words of wisdom into the joking. Just a sentence or two about how their boyfriend should be treating them. A comment here and there to let them know that that they’re worth more than what they’re giving themselves credit for. I never tell them to not do something. I tell them to be safe. To not take shit.

An ex-stripper who never went to college is not someone who you’d want giving your kid life advice. But maybe that’s what makes me the perfect person to do it. I know how important it is to cultivate intelligence not just beauty. I understand how powerful sexuality is and how addictive it can be to use it. And god damn, I know men. I know the motherfucking shit out of men.

While this has been a truly terrifying experience…knowing what trouble young girls are in, knowing that there is no childhood anymore. It has also brought out something in me I didn’t think was there. A nurturing instinct. A desire to help. When I finally stop waxin’ vag, or even if I’m still doing it, I want to volunteer to help at risk youth. I could have used some help when I was a teen. Middle class white girl or not, bad decisions don’t know class or race. We’re all equal there.

This shit turned serious, dammit!!!! WTF?

Tags: boys, dating, Rant, San Diego, sex, strippers, tits, vagina, waxing, youth