A couple of weeks ago, I went to have my face waxed. Eyebrows, lip, chin, sideburns. It is actually quite the process. My mom says that when I was born she didn't think I would have a forehead. I am a yetti.
I have accepted, for the most part, my yetti-ness and I had been working to maintain the ridiculous amount of facial hair I possess. I don't own my own wax because I don't think I would be able to pull off the strip on my own and then I would have partial bearded face and lips and chins and wax strips hanging from my skin and that will just be too much. So I was using the epi-creams to remove portions of it, but not only am I furry, but I am allergic to life and my skin is sensitive. The last epi-cream treatment kinded of burned my face and so, I stopped doing that. I pluck my brown and chin but every now and then I completely give up and head to a professional. I get overwhelmed by the expanse of hair and I need someone to find my face.
The struggle with this is the cost. It is not cheap to become facially de-haired. But a friend told me of a little place that will do your brows for $5! This means I could be hair free for a minimal cost. So a couple of weeks ago I went to the aforementioned establishment. It is owned by a very nice Vietnamese. They also do nails. I walked in and one of the nail technicians is yelling to one of the customers about what she wants done to her nails.
"Do you want a fill?!"
"NO! I don't have anything on my nails. I want a manicure."
They are at most three feet away from each other. There isn't that much else going on in the salon.
"What about these girls with you? Are they getting their nails done?!"
"Yes. Well, two of them are."
I come from around the corner and the technician assumes I am with the other woman. She yells:
"Is she with you?!"
"NO! I don't know her!"
I sheepishly ask to have my eyebrows waxed. She speaks in Vietnamese to the wax woman who speaks in Vietnamese to me. My Vietnamese is non-existent, but I figure out that I am supposed to follow her to the back. To the waxing room. I am hopeful to be reunited with my skin but increasingly nervous as I am escorted back.
We go into a room with makeshift walls of varying lengths. There is not a barber's chair. I sit in a an office chair and the woman goes to grab a popsicle stick and slather it with wax. She slaps it on my face and heads for my brows. She pushes on my forehead and rips. It stings but I am feeling better. The hair is leaving. I am heading towards two eyebrows. But then she heads towards the bottom part of my brow. I feel the paper cover my entire brow and I become afeared. I will have no eyebrow and will have to draw them in. I close my eyes. She pushes on my skin. She pushes harder on my eyeball and it pops open. She pulls and the hair is free but I can't see and I have no idea if there is any hair left.
She moves on. She attacks my chin and lip. She goes for the sideburns. She pushes my head to the side and pulls the skin taught. To get the angle she wants she presses into my neck. I am hoping she doens't crush my larynx as she completes her pull. The waxing finally stops and I think I am free. I have survived.
Then she goes into her toolbox and grabs tweezers. She yanks on the red irritated skin which remains. I actually can't believe there is any hair left. The tweezing stops and I think I can get up from the office chair but she returns to the toolbox for some sort of razor brush comb device I have never seen. She razor brushes my face. I think she is attempting to give me a hairline. I think this is beyond what anyone can do.
She stops and hands me a mirror. I do in fact still have two eyebrows but they are thin. I do have a hairline. I am happy to be less werewolf and more woman, but anxious to get home and wash my face. I ask her how much and she says that usually it would cost $35 but she knows that people have no money so I should just give her $20.
I get up from the office chair. Pay her and rush out. I am less yetti but my skin is itching. I drive home with bittersweet feelings. You can't beat $20 but was it worth the possible esophasgus smashing? Oh, what we women do for looks.
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