Friends, I have now experienced the worst pain a woman can feel besides childbirth or a broken femur. Let me explain.
Today, my friend Marge decided at lunch that she wanted to get her eyebrows done. She already knew the place she wanted to go. Here's how that conversation went:
Marge: "Want to go with me to get my eyebrows done?"
Me: "Sure, I can take you. The roads are clear."
Jack (Marge's 95 year old husband): " Are you coloring your eyebrows or getting that string thing done?"
Marge: "Why? Do you want to come?"
Jack: "No, I'll stay here. You girls go on. But are you just coloring or doing the string thing?"
Me: "What's the string thing?" I honestly had no idea what he meant.
Marge: "Oh, I don't know, it's something new."
Me: "Oh, maybe I'll try it. I'm interested." (fateful words, people....fateful words)
Jack: "Oh, maybe I'll ride along then." (Hah! He knows if I try something new, something interesting is bound to happen)
So we loaded up and headed off to the mall. We enter a little salon called Feah Brows Beauty.
Apparently, it's called THREADING and it will take you to the gates of hell and back. Here's what happened. So, Marge is all laid out in her chair, having decided to forgo threading today and simply get her own brows colored. I'm in the chair next to her, having been told by one of the girls in the waiting room that she comes in once a month because it's part of her culture and that it doesn't hurt at all. Liar!!! Liar!!! Pants on Fire!! Look up threading if you want to know what it is. All I know is that it involves cotton yarn and a near death experience.
The very first tug had my eyes stinging. By the second tug, my left eye was watering like crazy. Third tug, and I was in full-on crybaby mode. My nose even started running, people! The brow tech had to give me tissues. I was ready to run out but I couldn't leave Marge,who still had hair color on her eyebrows. And I couldn't leave with a half done face. I like my eyebrows to match each other. But I was beginning to wonder if maybe I shouldn't have committed to having my upper lip threaded. Yeah, I just admitted that on Facebook and now, this blog.
By the time the tech moved to my second eyebrow, whimpering sounds were coming from my mouth. I was trying to so hard to be still and be quiet but it was not working. I was praying that maybe my right side wouldn't have as many manly hairs as my left side, but alas, it was worse. Or maybe my pain tolerance lessened with each tug. Whatever it was, I almost died on that chair today. The tech almost died too, and it is only because I exhibited enormous amounts of self-control that her 100 pound self didn't end up getting thrown across the room by She-Hulk. People, I was full on sobbing by the time she finished.
I was too proud to wuss out after she finished my eyebrows so yes, I got my lip done too. Apparently, my face's lower region also belongs on Duck Dynasty. I now understand why bearded women just let it grow rather than getting rid of it. Pain. In order to "thread" the lip area, the tech asked me to close my mouth (because I was crying so hard) and push against my upper lip with my tongue. The picture you see is what I looked like. A monkey. So now I am a She-Hulk Monkey who belongs on Duck Dynasty.
Finally, it was all over. The tech asked me to return in 3 weeks and gave me a "Buy 10 Get 1 Free" card. Who can survive that TEN times? Maybe an orc.
Jack was glad he came. He and Marge laughed the whole way home.