Tearing Hair Out of Your Face and Other Painful Experiences

God bless brunettes and the bullshit we endure to stay womanly.

I was out on Saturday morning and after walking by a window and mistaking my eyebrows for two large caterpillars above my eyes, I decided it was time to stop in to my local (re: kind of trashy, but reasonably priced) salon to have some hair doused in wax and torn from my face at high speeds.

Normally, I love this place. It’s cheap, the staff are friendly and I can walk in without an appointment. The esthetician seemed friendly enough, and nothing seemed amiss.

I lay back in the chair and she was nice enough to offer me a headband to keep my bangs out of her way and wax-free. Supposedly.

For anyone unaware of this procedure, it involves a little stick and warm, gooey wax being smeared across the hair you want to remove. Pretty simple? I thought so, until this lady came at me with her tiny stick of warm, oozy torture.

First of all, I want my brows done in ten minutes, tops. I’ve long since gotten over the pain and I really just want it quickly done and over with so I can get on with my day. What I got instead was a detailed play-by-play of each hair that came out, or alternatively, would not come out with each smearing of the wax.

“Oh, oh, jeez. Look at that. Let me see. Well, we have one here *pluck*, one here *pluck* and oh, my, jeez, some of these didn’t come out with the wax, let me try again.”


“Jeepers. Jeez, jeez. These are stubborn. You have like one, two, threefourfive, almost like six or seven little hairs that just won’t come out *pluck* here and here *pluck*”

Now, imagine that for about 10 minutes. On one eyebrow. These brows get a little out of control, but I’m not Bert by any means. This whole procedure really, really shouldn’t be taking this long. Oh, and to top it all off, as she’s plucking stray eyebrows (which is not a big deal-it happens every damn time I go) she’s got one arm across my forehead and she’s squishing my face with her other arm. I can only imagine how it looked, and I have no idea why she felt the need to wrap me up in some kind of beauty-bar headlock.

Can I get something inbetween the no-brow Ernie and all the all-brow Bert? Kthx.

To top this lovely (when are they going to invent the sarcastic font? Seriously. Get on that!!) trip to the esthetician, as she’s starting my other brow, I hear,

“Oh, oh no. Oh, I’m sorry. So sorry. I got some wax in your hair! Oh crud. Oh, jeez, jeez, jeez!” Did I mention she sounds like a middle-aged woman from Long Island? I told her not to worry, as I was expecting a few little strings of the sticky wax in my locks. I ran my fingers through my hair starting behind my ear and got stuck. Awesome. This lady just dumped enough wax for a Brazilian in my hair. Amazing. I was sitting there, trying to kind of pick it out of my hair and I see her coming at my head with a bottle of oil (used to remove wax residue from the skin) like she’s going to start coating my head with the stuff.

“Wait,” I say, my hand blocking the bottle she’s about to squirt in my cranium’s direction, “that’s oil. I don’t want that all over my clothes or my hair. Just leave it. It’s no big deal. Let’s just get this done.”

The last thing I need on top of my waxy clump of hair is a big oil stain on my sweater and a grease-ball-jheri-curl on my head.

I don't care if that's oil or activator, get it away from my head.

Ten minutes, countless apologies and yet another hair waxing play-by-play later, I am finally out of that seat. Out at the counter, the esthetician (I found out her name is Barbie. How fitting?) informs me she’s not sure how to use the computer and that the receptionist is out. So, now another five minutes pass, my forehead area glowing red, and I’m giving her a lesson on how to total up my bill. Which I didn’t even receive a discount on, by the way. I thought about asking, but realistically, I just wanted to get the fuck outta Dodge at this point.

The mental pain I went through last Saturday far surpassed the physical pain I have endured getting hair torn out of various body parts. Can someone find me a good laser clinic? Or, perhaps a mute esthetician? I’ll take either at this point.


~ by Andrea on May 26, 2010.

6 Responses to “Tearing Hair Out of Your Face and Other Painful Experiences”

  1. Bad waxers…ugh. I got my eyebrows waxed once years ago. Now I just pluck them myself because if anyone is going to inflict pain on me it’s going to be me.

  2. At least it was just your eyebrows and you weren’t in the downward dog position while she was plucking. I would skip the Brazilian Wax until you find one with a steady hand or the comprehension skills required to WASH the area free of oils before applying wax.

    AH HAHA! You in the downward dog. I kill me.

  3. That’s gotta hurt!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: