Bikini Wax

"You'll know summer is nearly here," my colleague Jeff told me, "when the amusement parks open and Bikini Wax is finally open for business."

Having moved to the area in late January, I was quite surprised by this Bikini Wax place. "Bikini Wax?" I prompted.

"Yeah. Nice place for eye candy." He sipped his coffee with the same demeanor as if he had just told me it was raining outside.

"I see... So it's not a place where women go to get their hair removed."

"Not at all, although I'd guess that many of the women there have had a bikini wax or two... or three, or twenty." There was a certain glimmer in Jeff's eyes which I had come to recognize as signaling something naughtily significant was about to be said.

"It's on the north side of the city, not too far from the racetrack. It's a hands-only place where people from the tri-state area will flock to on the weekends to get their cars cared for with love... by babes in bikinis!"

I noticed Charlotte rolling her eyes as she passed the break room. Clearly, she had overheard what Jeff had just said.

"Their 'uniform' or sorts is a bikini top, short shorts, and sandals. Beyond that, there's babes of all types. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, babes with purple hair. Tall and short. Knockers large enough to knock out an eye if you're not too careful, and babes with tits small enough that they look like really young teenage girls. Babes with braces, babes with glasses -- although admittedly they mostly wear sunglasses since they're in the sun most of the time. Most of the Bikini Waxers, as they're called, are on the thinner-than-average side, but that's not always the case. And there're usually a few of them standing aside spreading tanning lotion on each other, which is nice to watch as well."

"I see..." I took another sip of coffee. "So that explains the bikini part of Bikini Wax. So do they wax the cars as well?"

"That is one of the services," Jeff commented with a grin.

I thought about this concept for a moment. "And given that there are three major universities in the city, I suppose that most of the bikini babes are university students, right?"

"Right. There might be a few high school students, but I know that the owner only hires someone who can prove she's a legal adult. But just as importantly, though, is the major grilling they get during the interview process. A friend's daughter interviewed to be a Bikini Waxer, and she got turned down because she couldn't properly identify enough cars on sight. The Bikini Waxers are to be able to correctly identify at least seventy percent of all popular and high-end vehicles sold in the United States since 1980, as well as at least ninety percent of the classic cars... on sight. They even need to be able to distinguish between, say, the 1997 Honda Accord and the 1998 Honda Accord."

"Damn... Even my car nut uncle could never do something like that."

"Exactly. They're supposed to know more about cars -- at least visually -- than the average guy on the street."

"But why? Why so much knowledge about cars visually? How does that help them to do their jobs?"

Jeff took another sip, and from his facial expression, he was clearly enjoying this conversation, especially after the two-hour meeting we had just endured. "Several reasons, really. First, the owner believes that if the Bikini Waxers know that much about cars, then they'll be just as passionate about making sure the cars look not just nice, not just good, but excellent. Secondly, the customers will often talk about the various cars with the Waxers while they're working, although the customers are relegated to the side of the lot so they don't get wet. And then, with the bikini-shorts-sandals 'uniform' and the strong knowledge of cars, the Waxers generally get very strong tips, which is why their 'uniform' includes shorts, so that they have somewhere to put the money."

I tried to envision what Jeff was describing: a car wash business where the workers were all women wearing bikinis and shorts and sandals, their scant clothing probably wet most of the time, trading banter about the various cars as they washed and dried and waxed the vehicles.

"How long is the line?" It seemed like a legitimate question.

"It's been as long as four hours before."

"Damn."

"Exactly. Great money in that business model -- both for the owner and for the Waxers, and there is definitely no shortage of guys in the tri-state area willing to part with their cash for this experience on a weekly basis. The babes certainly don't make nearly as much money as they would if they were to work in, say, a strip club, but the customers are definitely nicer and, generally speaking, they seem to really, really enjoy it."

"'They' who? The customers or the... Waxers?"

"Yes."

I considered this for a moment. "So when will Bikini Wax be opening this year?"

"I'll need to ask my sister."

"Oh? Why's that? Does she know the owner?"

"Definitely. My sister is the owner."

I glanced at the calendar on the wall, and wished I had a time machine so summer would arrive sooner.