Molly and I went to a new beauty school today. Oh wait. It was more than a beauty school…it was a DAY SPA academy. (She said with reverence.)
I’ve never been to a Day Spa academy so this was a new experience. They handed me this form to fill out that asked a lot of personal questions. (Q:Drug allergies? A: None of your darn business!) But then I asked the smocked attendant, “Do you guys do chemical peels?’ She nodded in the affirmative.
Well, I wasn’t interested in slathering my face with battery acid so I put a line through the intrusive questions. “I just want my eyebrows done.” Not something I usually do, btw. I’m pretty much a granola when it comes to beauty regimes.
I took a seat in their waiting area. The decor was minimalist-glass table top coffee table, chrome chairs and there was some funky new age song playing. For a minute I wondered if I had developed tinnitus but realized there were wind chimes tinkling in the background on the CD.
Another smocked young lady emerged. “Miss Theresa?” she said. I smiled and followed her into the “Procedures Room.” An ominous feeling flashed through my soul. The door clicked softly behind me.
She opened another door and there was a woman laying supine on an exam table. “Lila” silently led me around the curtain room divider and I had a flash back to nursing school training. Or was that the Robin Cook novel turned movie, “Coma”? She patted the black, paper covered table, “Lay down here,” she said. And I complied while she gathered whatever she was getting.
So this was a “Day Spa,” I thought. There was more new age music playing and while I know it was meant to be relaxing but the ongoing suspended chords in the music made me think of horror movies just before the axe murdered appears to the young woman in the shower.
Lila sat down and trussed my head up in a towel. Are we doing this, she gestured to my upper lip. Or how about here… I swatted away her hand and firmly said, “The eyebrows.”
I’ve never had my eyebrows brushed before; it was a task Lila took very seriously. Oh for Pete’s sakes, I thought. Just get rid of my wild-eyed look and send me on my way,
She got out a pen And a ruler. Comb, comb, measure, measure. I reminded myself that this was a SCHOOL for professional eyebrow pluckers, of which this young lady would be getting a Master’s degree.
She stroked my eyebrows again. “Would you like them tinted? How about your eyelashes?” Yippee! I always wanted to explore my Inner Tramp and get my eyebrows dyed.
Oh Sweet Mercy. Just fix the eyebrows! “So, do you just goop on the stuff and let it marinade for a few minutes?” I asked. The lady next to me repeated, “marinade” and started laughing. So did her Eyebrow doctor. Evidently, that’s what she was having done. Perhaps this is a little more mainstreamed than I realized. She looked like a respectable woman.
Some odd sounding machine like a pumped turned on and off in the background. It sounded like a pneumatic wrench removing lugnuts. Good Lawd. What else did they do here? Was that the sounds of someone getting peeled?
And then it struck me. I was in a Beauty Service Bay. I nearly started giggling thinking of all the similarities but I bit back my smile. Wasn’t sure if Lila would appreciate the humor.
When Lila was finished ripping off the wayward hairs and a layer of skin, she handed me the mirror and I beheld my reddened skin. This beauty stuff doesn’t come without a price.
I wondered if everyone would be staring at the bright red streak across my forehead when I went to pay. At the desk, a woman was lovingly stroking her arm commenting on how smooth it felt. I should’ve gotten done what she had done, I thought.
Afterward, Molly and I, freshly clipped, went to Wally World. I tried on a sweater and looked in the mirror. “I look like a cow,” I whined.
“No you don’t” Molly said. “Cows don’t come in green.” I could feel my red eyebrows scrinch up in disapproval at her.
“I need to find something without lycra. Something sturdy. Not clingy,” I said. I’m pretty sensitive about my -ahem- abs.
Molly held up a printed tee the size of an IMAX screen. “How about this?” she said. The design looked like a newly released mold spore taking flight. Gold sequence was sprinkled throughout. She stifled a giggle.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
And we did. This beauty stuff is exhausting.
