Day 245: I Am Pruned

I am quite used to ladies in white coats administering hot wax ("Are you supposed to burn the hair off?"), or cold wax ("CuntingfuckingHELL") to my ladygarden. In fact, I am generally quite used to foreign bodies (not that kind!!!) in my ladygarden: chewing gum, remote control scanners with flashing lights and leftover bits of wax that pull in unexpected ways when boarding the bus.

But having the ladygarden pruned in Amsterdam is a whole different affair! "This is the best wax outside of New York", shouts Marjam. "Underwears off please, all of them, I must see EVERYTHING", she roars, tossing my legs about as if they were mere flotsam and jetsam.

Behind her, mounted in a case, are seven different tubes of wax, all different widths. "Tiny one for faces; biggest one for backs of men; small one for pussies." I wonder briefly how you wax a cat, then remember and feel faint, what with "pussy" being one of the words that makes me feel bilious. Underneath the tubes is a small cauldron of dark green wax mounted on a plinth.

If I swizzle my head round to the left a bit I can see the waterfall in the garden. No-one can see in through the enormous floor-to-ceiling window unless they are in a helicopter with a strong telescope. I am happy about this, as my ladygarden is encased in dark green and Marjam is doing something simultaneous with two of the tubes. The phone rings. Marjam goes to answer it through the door of the treatment room, which opens directly onto the shop floor. There are people there; the door is ajar; a light breeze plays over the wax that is, only now, hardening in the afternoon air. A door slams in the distance; someone laughs.

Marjam comes back. There is a picking, as if she were trying to get purchase on the edge of a particularly stubborn plaster. And then a rip; a rip like three-inch thick calico being torn by the hands of giants. I wonder what "cold poultice" is in Dutch.

Marjam is laughing. "Look at this!", she says. In my face she waves a perfect reverse impression of my ladygarden fashioned from green wax. "See the strong roots? It is good, no? Now turn over."