Drive-By Waxing

I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time recently. I was on my way (you guessed it) to a doctor's appointment and saw the spa out of the corner of my eye. Being a few minutes ahead of schedule, I pulled in to see if they could fit me in later that day. The answer was "yes, yes, we will wax eyebrow" in broken English. Good. That would be my treat for the day.
My doctor wasn't able to help me, other than to send a referral letter to yet another specialist to get in on the case. Well...at least I would be a touch more beautiful after my drive-by waxing.
Back at the spa, and having no idea what to expect, I lay on the bed (which looked suspiciously like a medical exam table) and determined not to cry. Surely, with all the tests and procedures I've been through I could handle a little hot wax and tape?
The first strip came off fairly easy and I thought... I can do this! After about strip number five,with my eyes tearing up, my thoughts changed to...Why am I doing this?  Then the plucking began. Never again! I have plucked at my own face before but this was somethin' else! She was relentless. Still, the whole process took only about 10 minutes and when it was over my thoughts changed once more to... I could do that again. Actually, I'm glad I did this.
Until the ride home.
My doorstep is about a 1/2 hour drive from the salon entrance and that was one crazy ride home. I could feel the rash bursting out of my face and the itch...oooh the itch...I dared not look in the mirror. What had I done?!
A few hours later the rash settled down and gave up on its anger, allowing me to once again look at my reflection without feeling total horror. Relief, sweet relief.
I used to want a tattoo. A nice lettering of a quote by Mother Theresa, "Intense love does not measure; it just gives." I've changed my mind. I still believe in those words wholeheartedly, but after all the involuntary pain my body has been through, and now being at an age when eyebrow waxing has become a necessary cruelty, I think I will "treat" myself to more pleasurable things. Like a Cappuccino or a good chick-flick or a shopping trip to the Mall of America.
Yes, those sound good. Until next time, Mrs. Spa Lady. And thanks to you...no tattoo for me!