I go every couple of weeks to get my
caterpillars eyebrows waxed at my local nail place and while I love these people and how sweet they are to my kids, they’re starting to give me a bit of a complex.
I enter to chiming cowbells and enthusiastic greetings and “Warren” leads me back to ‘the room’ where I lay on what must have once been an ironing board but is now enjoying a second life as a waxing table.
I put my head on a towel as “Warren” peers intently at my face.
He takes a deep breath and as he opens his mouth the stench of cigarettes and mint overwhelms my senses. It takes a lot to keep from cringing as he stares down at my face, studying me, breathing on me.
” Wax Eyebrows?” he says
“Yes”, I say “Eyebrows”
“No lip?” his voice rising just a hair at the end.
“No, just the eyebrows today” I say
Nothing. He says nothing. Does nothing. To me, it seems like the stillness goes on for an eternity, in reality probably 2 seconds. My stomach does a little twist as I fight the urge to leap off the table and grab the nearest mirror and stare at my upper lip. Did I suddenly become Borat? Am I hairy and grotesque, Have I morphed into the bearded lady in the brief time since I checked the mirror last? How has Nathan missed the fact that he’s obviously been kissing a swarthy swashbuckler?
“Warren” quickly finishes my eyebrows and I’m unable to even enjoy the sleekness of my perfectly coiffed brows over my sparkling
green blue eyes because as I plop down my $10 and grab my kids all I can think about it is getting home and examining myself with a 10X magnified mirror and wondering, is there something someone needs to tell me?
Is Warren the only one being honest with me or does he just enjoy ripping the hair out of my face with his hot wax?