I showered today and put on make-up. I know. Then I waved to my husband and headed out. I had plans to lunch with a girlfriend, but before, I wanted to get my eyebrows waxed.
I drove the one block to my place where I always go, where everybody knows my name. (Cue Cheer’s Theme song.) The girl at the front desk motioned me to go back to the waxing room. She used to walk me back there, but now we’re tight, so she just kind of looked over her shoulder like, “Well, you know the drill.”
I walked into the tiny room, placed my purse on the small folding chair and laid back on the table (noting that the sheet covering it was the same Southwestern pattern as the last time I got my eyebrows waxed and the time before that.) I waited for a few minutes listening to the zen music playing in the background, trying to ignore the potential germs residing on the unwashed sheet before a cute little Asian woman walked in.
She tugged her shirt up and said with a giggle, “Got to cover up the boobies.”
I laughed and then pulled my own (slightly) low cut shirt up and said, “I’ve been covering up the boobies all day.”
She responded, “No, no. If you’ve got ’em…show ’em.” And then she leaned down and winked at me.
We laughed a little. Then she got to work, waxing my brows. During the process, she complimented them, “They’re so thin and pretty.”
I replied, “They’re too thin. I hate them. I wish I had thicker eyebrows, but I’ve never been able to grow them.”
She shushed me, saying, “No, yours are perfect.” We quieted our conversation as she applied hot wax and ripped off strips of cloth from my face.
After the waxing was complete, she put the special balm over my brows. It has a cooling effect and takes the sting away immediately. I sighed my approval. Then she kept applying it to my entire face. I mentioned that I had make-up on and that she didn’t need to bother with it, but she tapped my forehead and said with authority, “Shhh…you like it.”
I shhhh’d and let her rub my face.
Then she decided to take it further South and began to massage my shoulders. Then my chest. Did I mention how low cut my shirt was? This is not the typical eyebrow waxing I normally get.
When she finished, she showed me my eyebrows in the mirror and complimented how pretty they were. Truth – they were. She did an amazing job. We admired them in the reflection of the hand mirror together. Then I got up from the table and collected my purse, heading out to pay.
She followed me to the reception desk.
As she rang me up, she asked while arching an eyebrow, “Do you work out?”
I nervously laughed and said, “Um, yes,” as I handed her my credit card.
“I can tell. I was looking at your legs while we walked,” she said handing me my credit card slip.
Maybe she was just fishing for a large tip…
Maybe she caught one.
Either way, I left with a bit of an inflated ego and what may or may not have been my first lesbian experience.
I went home and touched up my makeup then went straight to lunch where I retold the story and ordered one or two stiff margaritas. Does anyone else need a cigarette?