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The Secret Handshake

Manscaping: The Final Frontier

by Colin Wolf
Posted // 2011-11-03 -

OK, did I let another man spread hot wax on my ass and rip it off? Yes. Was it worth it? Totally. But this story doesn’t start with me on all fours in a spa room. Nope, it begins a couple of months ago when I spotted a small but effective thumbnail ad in City Weekly.

Now I hate to admit it, but I’m a sucker for great advertising. Typically, when I come across a good ad I never forget it. Hell, it’s been almost 15 years and I’m still singing this in the car….

But when I noticed a little gem on the back page that said, “Going where no man has gone before! Back, Crack and Sac Wax,” I was intrigued. Not so much because I wanted (or needed) undercarriage manscaping, but because the ad is so damned good.


I had a lot of questions: Why is there an astronaut drifting into a black hole? Who represents the astronaut? Is the black hole a metaphor? And, will this mission be dangerous? I thought about this ad for months as a possible story, and it was driving me nuts (no pun intended). I honestly couldn’t get it out of my head. I felt like Homer Simpson when he saw the ad for clown college.

So after some serious thought, I gave in. I decided to go where I’ve never gone before … to a guy who waxes grundles. The man behind the ad is Darrell McCurtain, a seasoned esthetician who’s been practicing everything from man waxes to massage therapy for over 10 years (and he could also be an astronaut). We agreed on a date and time, and I told Darrell that I’ve never been manscaped before. He reassured me that it wouldn’t hurt that bad. “Will … I bleed?” I asked over the phone. “No, but how high is your pain tolerance?” he asked.

“I’m a huge pussy.”

“Then it’s probably going to hurt.”

A service like this will run you about $85, depending on how much of you is covered in man-carpet, so I wanted to do it right.

The morning of the waxing, I took a shower (because Darrell asked me to) and I said goodbye to my veritable forest. Standing there in the hot water, I thought about how I’ll probably have to temporarily give up bicycling, rope swings and horseback riding. “How bad can it be?” I thought. “It can’t be worse than stepping on a Lego.” Oh, how wrong I was. It was worse … much worse.

Darrell works out of The Golden Door, which is located inside the Waldorf Astoria in Park City. If you’ve never been, it’s a very modern, professional spa. Being in this posh setting made me feel a whole lot better about getting man-waxed. I mean, if I could pick anywhere to have a stranger peel hot wax off my crack 'n' sack, it would be here.

A "before" shot of Darrell and me. As you can see, I’m trying my best to look relaxed.

The spa room reminded me of a dimly lit dentist’s office. It’s a small room with a large table centered in the middle, a retractable UV-lit magnifying glass and a little hotplate on the side filled with a bluish-green wax. There was even Native American flute music playing softly in the back ground.

Irecommendletting this play for the remainder of the article.

“OK, go ahead and lie face down and take your robe off,” said Darrell. I reluctantly stripped down to my boxers and got on the table. “Your shorts, too.” I was childishly hoping we could do this thing with my underwear on. Unfortunately, that was not an option. Since I had no choice, I lay out on the table like a scared puppy.

Darrell started out by waxing my tramp-stamp zone, which, pain-wise, wasn’t that bad. I figured this would be a good time to get to know Darrell before we really got to know each other. “So how did you get into butthole waxing?” I asked. “Well, no one was doing it at the time and I guessed that men would want manscaping done since most female estheticians don’t do it. Mostly because they’re afraid of creepy guys.”

“Is your clientele mostly guys?” I asked.

“Yeah, for that ad. I get swimmers, body builders, all types. But I do a lot of other services, too: skincare, pedicures, manicures. That ad is just for this particular service.” Over the years, Darrell’s had a lot of fun with his wax ads, occasionally switching it up to things like, “Rooster and Kitty Wax,” “Wax your man-candy,” and “Boyzillians.”

Darrell told me to think about something other than what was going down, but all I could think about was the well-being of my rooster.

Darrell finished up this area and started moving south. “Okay, I need you to get on your elbows and knees. The biggest thing is to just relax and don’t clench,” instructed Darrell. I wanted him to do a good job and wrap this up in a timely fashion. But I found his request nearly impossible since my natural instinct has always been to clench when I’m frightened.

Now, I’m not going to get too graphic here, but let’s just say getting waxed on the walls of the canyon doesn’t hurt that bad. It’s getting waxed right in the abyss that will make a grown man cry.

Though the chest is a painful spot, Steve has no idea what I went through.

“Hey, the wax is really warm. It feels like I’m wearing a little hat down there,” I said to Darrell as he laughed and swiftly tore off the wax without hesitation.

“Jesus Christ!” I screamed as tears welled up in my eyes.

“Did that hurt?" asked Darrell.

“Fuck, it felt like I just dipped my ass in a hornet's nest!”

Darrell did a few more agonizing pulls and then asked me to flip over onto my back, which you would think would be awkward, but at this point I felt like Darrell knew me better than my girlfriend. I flipped over and got into the periscope position.

I’ll spare you some details here, as well, and just say that the balls are the worst. We all know it’s a scientific fact that the testicles get smaller when it’s cold. But through this experience, I learned that they can get even smaller when tortured. I told Darrell I couldn’t go any further, that I wanted to quit. But Darrell, being the perfectionist he is, wouldn’t stop till every last hair was gone.

When Darrell finished, I sat up in a cold sweat and checked the damage. “Oh my god, it looks like I have a baby dick! … nice work.” He did a really good job, but words cannot explain how happy I was that it was over. I was sore and swollen. But on the plus side, my real estate was smoother than a pair of plumbs.

Yes, they look strikingly similar to this.

I’ll be completely honest when I say I’m not sure why anyone would want this done. On one hand, I’m now closer with my girlfriend (seeing as she was there laughing at my pain and taking photos) and I can now sport a thong with confidence. But as previously mentioned, I’m a huge pussy and I don’t think I could ever do it again. Who knows? If I ever find myself in a situation where I need my grundle to resemble Bruce Willis, then I would definitely call Darrell.

Darrell and I afterwards_1.JPG
Mission accomplished. Not only am I a product of effective advertising, but I have gone where no man has gone before.

Darrell is a master of his craft. To book, call him at 801-856-9140 and look for his ad on the back page of City Weekly.

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Posted // November 7,2011 at 09:41 My god. . .is there no depth to which you won't go to do a funny bit? I'm trying to understand why you would go through that much pain to remove hair from a place no one in polite company will ever visit, yet you conserve the 70's porn 'stache that everyone can see.

Can I go with you when you visit the Asian massage parlors fronting for nail salons? Or is it the other way around?


Posted // November 5,2011 at 16:00 YES! Colin, I'm so glad you finally did this! i remember when we first saw that ad in our living room i even took a picture of with my phone and posted it on FB! great job dude, love the article and the pics. miss you!


Posted // November 4,2011 at 15:22 This is so funny!! I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard, all alone. Loved this article. Especially with the music, it really set the scene. Thank you.


Posted // November 4,2011 at 14:56 Love love love. Bravo!


Posted // November 4,2011 at 08:43 Great blog post!


Posted // November 7,2011 at 22:39 - A neigh or of mine told me about your blog, and I have been wanting to read it for some time but never really remembered until we were always on our way to work,at which point, of course, it would be much too late seeing that my administrator would probably frown upon reading things like this at my Kindergarten school! This morning, however I was sitting outside with my coffee and looking at my pumpkins that I still have and remembered when she had mentioned your Hallooween blog and so now here I am, and I have to say I am totally hooked! As I read this blog, I laughed so hard I cried, and I even clenched as well!
I have always been intrigued by the art of "cutting down the forest" especially in women. I have stories of them shaping into pretty pictures as if it were some sort of bonsai tree, making it into a landing strip, although, in my personal opinion If a guy needs a visual picture which screams 'This Way' then I think that maybe they need to just give him a copy of GQ or just find a new man. Then of course there is the 'wear it bare' effect. Having said that, I still cannot wrap my mind around any of this. I am all for the neat trim of the number one blade of a razor but to go through all of this.....
1. It seems to be expected of a girl to go through the pain and agony not only physically but emotionally as well (which style would my man most desire???) while most men do not even trim down there.
2. What is the benefit? Is there a physical benefit, or just the emotional satisfaction of knowing what your partner went through just to be with you? :)
And last but not least, let's talk about the physical agony that happens with regrowth both for the bald and the partner. Although the prickly feeling for your partner cannot be half as bad as sitting in a meeting with the unbearable incessant need to want to scratch away and yet never being able to actually be able to satisfy that need. Yes the occasional crotch grab seems to be acceptable in our society but digging at your butt and balls might not be looked over. ;)


Posted // November 4,2011 at 12:34 - absolutely hysterical, well done young man!