Another Creepy Experience

Man, I am just racking them up!

So last night was my first visit with my new waxer. I am still sad that my old waxer quit and is no longer in the business of waxing (well, I'm happy for her, sad for me). Anyway, I was feeling a bit apprehensive yesterday afternoon as I walked into the salon for my eyebrow waxing appointment, but I kept telling myself, "Self? You will be fine. It will be fine. You won't die, you may just look funny for a few weeks at the very worst. It will be okay. But you'll probably look funny. And that will suck. But you'll be okay."

I was obviously not helping myself very much.

So, I went into the salon and sat in the waiting area until it was time for my appointment. While I waited I watched a baby (probably around 6 to 8 months) getting a haircut. Man, he did not want to get his hair cut. His mom was holding his arms to his side because if they got free he was covering his head with them. He was also screaming bloody murder. It was pretty adorable, actually, and he had the whole salon captivated.

So, out of the corner of my eye, I see a small person approaching me. I look, and hope to God this is not the person coming for me.

Of course it was.

She's tiny! And old! And weird looking. Her ears are kind of pointy. She was barely taller than my elbows (not even tall enough to look me straight in the boob), and while I'm slightly taller than average at 5'9", I'm no giant. I think she's an elf.

Okay, well anyway, I followed her back to the waxing room where she promptly told me to sit down in a chair and that she does things a bit differently from the last girl who worked there. That made me nervous. I liked the way things were before.

She made me take off my shoes, and then I laid down on the table, and she turned on a heating and vibrating pad under my feet. It was kind of weird. Then she gave me a head massage, which I really needed, but was nowhere near great. Then she handed me a mirror and we talked about what I wanted her to do.

"Well, I'll take a bit off the ends here where you have fine lines (!!). Oops, not lines, I mean fine hairs. You have fine hairs. And then, do you want me to make a little difference here in the...hmmm...I'm forgetting my words. What's that called?"

"Arch?" I guessed.

"Yeah, that's it," she replied, "Arch."

I should have gotten up and walked out right about then, but I stayed because of that politeness thing I was talking about yesterday. I really have a politeness problem. I should work on that.

Anyway, so then she started applying the wax and trying to sell me products that they sell at the salon, including, but not limited to, a face scrub (because apparently all others but the Aveda brand are bad), a candle in the scent she had burning in the room, gift baskets for Thanksgiving gifts (the hell?), and a moisturizer. That was uncomfortable to say the least, and add in the fact that she was BURNING MY FACE WITH THE WAX, and I was practically squirming. (Seriously, I still have red marks today. I'm not happy.)

When she was finished with the BURNING OF MY FACE, and the RIPPING OUT OF NON-EYEBROW HAIRS (because really, does the wax have to stretch from the corner of my eyebrow to my cheekbone? I think not), she handed me a mirror to look at the results. Then she stroked my left eyebrow and said "You're so pretty."

Confused, I replied, "Thanks?"

Then she giggled a bit and said, "Well, I was talking to the eyebrow but you're pretty too."

"Oh." was all I could muster. Seriously, what the hell?

So, I got up and put on my shoes as quickly as possible, and headed to the front desk, all the while listening (and ignoring) to her trying to get me to schedule my next appointment in 2 weeks (I usually go 4). I made some excuse about it being the holiday party season in four weeks and so I'd have to schedule closer to the time.

I won't be scheduling closer to the time.

Also? My eyebrows are uneven.

I'm really not happy.

(To make it better, Aaron reluctantly took me out to eat last night. He really had no choice in the matter.)