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. Continue reading