Bad Blood

Last night I dreamt that Taylor Swift was singing to me.

🎶 Now we’ve got probbbb blems and I don’t think we can sollllve’em, you made a really deep cu-ut and baby now we got bad blood, HEY! 🎶

Only as she got menacingly closer I realized that it wasn’t Tay Tay at all.  It was my eyebrow lady. I woke up in cold sweats.  I know exactly what prompted this hellish nightmare.

Friday evening I had plans to go stay with my best friend who was visiting from out-of-town.  I packed my things in the car and as I was reversing, I looked in the rear view mirror and noticed how horribly unkempt my eyebrows were.

Now most, if not all women, will agree that just like breakfast is the most important meal of the day, a well-groomed pair of eyebrows are the most important part of your face.  If you want proof of this, check out Cara’s clever post on her blog Maskcara.

So naturally, something had to be done.  What kind of friend would I be if I showed up to my BFF’s place with two hairy caterpillars on my face?

I looked at the clock.  6:42 p.m.  My threader’s salon closes at 7:00 p.m.  It takes me 10 minutes to get there.  When I walk in, my regular lady and a new lady are both with clients.  There is one client ahead of me.  I sign in and wait patiently.  My regular lady takes the next client to the back.  I’m starting to feel nervous. New girl finishes with her client.  She looks at me and says, “Come…sit.”  In that split second I must make a decision.  Do I offend the new girl and ask to wait for my regular girl, possibly upsetting my regular girl because I waited until the last-minute to walk in and now she has to stay late to work on me? Or do I accept new girl’s invitation and risk offending my regular girl for cheating on her? I chose the latter.

The whole time I sat in the chair I was unaware of the pain from the unwaxed thread ripping stray hairs out of my face.  Instead I was listening intently at the voices coming from the back of the salon.  Were they getting closer?  I prayed for new girl to hurry up and finish before regular girl came out.

She didn’t.

I picked up my purse and did the walk of shame up to the register.  As I handed regular girl my payment she asked, “So, my dear, how have you been?” . The temperature in the room went down about 20 degrees. “I’ve been okay”, I sighed.  I was trying to get her pity.  It didn’t work. She briefly looked up and with an icy stare she said, “Have a good weekend.”. No smile. No “see you in two weeks”. Nada. We are officially over.

♫ Bandaids don’t fix bullet holes…♫

I got in my car and as I was reversing, I looked in the rear view mirror at my freshly threaded brows.  I hate them. Another affair gone bad.

So now I must search high and low for a new, trustworthy threader.  Until then, I’ll have to rely on my Japonesque tweezers and my favorite eyebrow filler by Two Faced.  (For those who’d like to know, it’s called Bulletproof Brows and the color is universal brunette. I love it.)

You live and you learn.

“Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.” – Oscar Wilde


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