Medusa Gets Her Brows Done

I joke in my act that the first time I ever got my eye brows waxed it felt like a lobotomy. Sad to say, but brow waxing has become a ritual that I willingly submit to about once a month. No irony there. Somehow I’ve been sold on the fact that well maintained eye brows frame my face better and make me look good. Vanity is an exacting task master.

When I showed up last Thursday for my brow appointment my regular lady, Arlene, wasn’t there. It seems that she had quit just the week before. The spa rescheduled me with Halina, a petite woman with a heavy Eastern European accent, but said I could cancel if I wanted. What I wanted was Arlene, but I took the appointment with Halina. If I waited another week my eyebrows would look like the Amazon Rain Forest.

Well, when Miss Halina introduced herself to me and shook my hand, she exclaimed for all the world, "Oh my god, you need a hand treatment." Not a good start, Halina. Not a good start at all. But rest assured, sports fans, it gets better.As she’s doing my brows she says, "Dah’ling, you really need a facial." Now to be honest, I haven’t had a facial in while, but when I walk into a spa I’m not paying for blunt honesty. I’m paying for, "Wow you look great, here’s how we can make you look even better."

At one point Halina stops doing my brows all together so she can slather some cream onto my lips. Apparently she found the barren, arid wasteland above my chin way too distracting.At the end of the appointment, she earnestly grasped my sand paper like hands in hers and said, "Dah’ling, you’re going to need a better moisturizer or you’re going to age." I didn’t have the heart to tell her that we all age, whether we moisturize or not. Oil of Olay is great, but they don’t have anything in their existing product line that literally stops time. If they did, I’m sure I would have seen it on an episode of Star Trek.

When I left the house that day, I honestly thought I looked okay. Eye brows not with standing, I’m still a reasonably attractive woman in her prime. But after seeing Halina, I felt like a dried up hag. I began to wonder how I could have thoughtlessly inflicted my horrible visage upon the unsuspecting masses. I hope I didn’t inadvertently turn anyone to stone as I slithered to my appointment.

The pity of it is, Halina did a great job on my brows, but it’s clear she missed her calling. I’m thinking insurance salesman. "Dah’ling if you die without a policy, your family will hate you." Of course, I’ll never go back to Halina, unless I’m having one of those rare days with too much self esteem. Maybe I do look like hell, Dah’ling, but at least Arlene had the good grace not to tell me.

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