I am always amused by the cool names they have on the menu card for facials and what not; always thought of trying one of those and today finally I gave in to my curiosity. This was not the first time someone was going to “work” on my face, however this is surely the first time someone professional was going to “treat” it. I was not sure of what exactly I wanted to do so I pretty much pointed towards my face, and the areas I thought could look better (God knows how), and said “Well what do you think? What should I go for?”
The lady holding the menu card suggested two or three names and the total cost and I, even though by the time she said the total cost just wanted a simple haircut, said with some pause “Alright.”
After the haircut and a quick shave I was told to go in a room, dim lit by a blue light and enough space for the bed and some weird machine and a chair that was there. A girl came in and told me to lie down, she switched on the tube light and from there it was a spree of jellies dumped and massaged on my face and neck. I had no idea that a young lady would be doing this, had I known I would have taken precautions, for starters I would not have worn a loose track pant. As she started massaging my face I had a constant fear the she might arouse me and given my loose track pant she would notice it. However, God’s grace, her touch was either too professional or I was too scared, whatever the reason was, nothing like that happened. Saved me a lot of embarrassment.
Well soon after that, I sensed hot air blown onto my face. God! initially it was hard to breathe, with all the hot steam blown on my face I was trying to breathe calmly and ward off all weird thoughts of being an alien abduction victim tortured for science. I don’t understand why I think like that sometimes. Anyway soon amidst the steam, I felt her soft hands rested on my cheeks (face cheeks) and then, “Ouch!” that pain, it was like she was digging a hole in my nose. My Ouch made her ask if this was the first time I am doing this. Hmmm, an Ouch and the other person asking if this is the first time, I wonder where else I have heard that. I controlled my chuckle and said “Yes, is there more like this.” She explained that she was removing the black heads from my nose and there is a lot more to go. The next 5 minutes was just excruciating pain. She also “threaded” my nose for some hair she found there.
Wow! that pain, I was on something which looked like a massage table and a lady was torturing me. After all that I totally deserved a happy ending – just to cheer me up. I chuckled on that thought and I was scared again. What if she noticed the chuckle, she will ask me why I smiled, a guy smiling when his nose is ripped apart – that should raise suspicion. Quick! think of some joke, a cover up joke, no not the happy ending line, that is not what you call cover up. Yes, if she asks why you chuckled, you will tell with a French accent, no why do you need the accent, no accent; you will tell “Well after all that pain, I wont be surprised if I open my eyes to find a tribal tattoo inscribed on my nose.” Phew, Good.
Well she did not ask. The next 30-40 minutes was just me napping and she playing with creams on my face. At last she said “We are done.” I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked, how should I put it, different. I was not sure if that was better, but yes, different. As I walked outside the room, I felt like all of them were looking at me, judging me for some reason. I paced towards the counter and gave my credit card, and also ended up taking an annual family membership of the salon. I thanked the girl who did things to my face and came back home.
My mom noticed a change, and the first thing she went for was the credit card bill.
“What in heaven! Are you kidding me with this bill?”
“Nope. That would be inflation.”