Comedy from the life of Jen

This is from a blog on my myspace page that I wrote about a year and a half ago, right after I began working as the Director of Nursing at Silver Oak, an assisted living facility. I still consider this to be one my best pieces of comedic writing... sort of.

Okay, so here’s the scoop. Yesterday, I went in to my new job, right? I learned all the ins and outs of the security system, the paging system, and the computer system. I learned how to enter hardware, check reports, monitor my employees from the computer, assign security codes, all that jazz.

After I left, I went to get the refills done on my solar nails. It was two weeks to the day. The guy that did them last time did a great job, so I was waiting for him. But the boss guy that met me when I went in (not very proficient in English, I might add) directed me to this older lady. Keep in mind when I say "older", I don’t mean old. I just mean older than the teenager girls that work there. So anyway, I sat down at this lady’s desk, and she starts working on my nails (also not very proficient in English, I might add). The guy that did them last time, Steven, wandered over to where we were at. Steven, although still a little difficult to understand, speaks and understands English much better, yet another reason why I wanted him to do it. He asked me, "Are you off today?" I said yes. Then, I guess in an attempt to make conversation since the lady in front of me wasn’t saying, or wasn’t able to say, anything, he asked me, "Do you have kids?" I smiled a big, knowing smile, and said, "Why yes, I have 8." He did a double take, and said, "And only one husband?" I said yes. He asked, "Why so many?" So I said, "I have 3 biologically, and we adopted 5." He nodded his head in understanding, and said,"Oooohhh. Wow. That’s a lot!"

Eventually he wandered off, after talking a little more in a weird language to the lady that was doing my nails. I rather assumed that he was explaining it all to her, because right after he left, she said, "Are you married?" It took 3 times before I got what she was asking. I said yes. She said, "You have children?" I said, "Yes, I have 8." She stopped, looked hard at me, and then said, "One?" I said, "No, 8." and I showed her on my fingers. She said, "Children??" I said, "Yes, 8 children." She was quiet for a minute, like she was trying to figure it all out, then said, "One children?" We played this game for a few more minutes, and when it became apparent that she either didn’t believe me, or didn’t think that I understood what she was asking me, I got my phone and showed her a picture of all of us. So we started talking about kids, if you can call it talking; she told me that she has 6 kids. I would have said, "Ha! Gotcha beat!!" but I don’t think she’d have understood.

Just as she was finishing up my nails, she leaned in close and said what I understood as, "You have beautiful eyebrows. You let me do them?" I said, "Uh, no, thank you though." She leaned in even closer, lowered her voice, and said something I couldn’t understand, but ended with, "It no hurt. You let me do them, okay?" Thinking that she meant it as a nice thing from one mother to another and that she meant it to be a complimentary thing, and not wanting to insult her by refusing a "gift" so to speak, I said okay. So I washed my hands, then went and sat down obediently at the waxing area.

She put this steaming hot pink stuff on the bottom half of my eyebrow. I mean, it was almost blistering my skin, right. Then she presses this small cloth onto the part that was coated in pink. Then, without even a HINT of a warning, she proceeded to RIP the cloth off my eyebrow. My whole body jerked upwards as she ripped every hair, root and folicle out of my head! I literally almost screamed, as she’s quickly saying, "Ah. No. See? It no hurt." and quickly coating more pink goo before I can do anything about it. I half expected her to tie me to the chair. It felt like blood was running down the outside of my eye and my nose as she coated the bottom half of the other eye. Just as I was thinking that any woman who would get this done on a regular basis had to be clinically insane, I again felt the sensation of all of my skin being torn from my face, and yet again, had to stifle another scream.

I was crying by this time, although it was involuntary; my first eye was still watering dramatically, and I momentarily went blind in the other one. But I breathed a sigh of relief that it was over, and started to get up to leave, when I saw her coming back with more wax. I tried hard to conceal my horror as she proceeded to coat the upper half, as well as both corners, with more pink goo, knowing full well that whatever she did to this eye, she had to do to the other one. Somehow, I’m not sure how, I made it through all four of these (2 for each eye) without too much whimpering. She, however, apparently thought it was really funny to see me curled up in the fetal position, shaking uncontrollably and drooling on myself, because she was LAUGHING at me, saying, "No. It no hurt. See?" If I could have managed a thought in the midst of all the bleeding and the pain, I would have told her to stop laughing or I would MAKE her stop laughing. But even if I could have made anything coherent come out of my mouth, in the state I was in, I doubt she would have been threatened by me.

Anyway, just as I was cleaning the drool off of my shirt, wiping the rivers off of my face, and trying to assess for bleeding control, she came at my face with a cotton ball soaked in some unknown substance. Thinking this must be a salve to quench the fire on my upper face, I consented to let her put it on me. And it sort of did help, a little, until I saw the true intentions come out. A pair of TWEEZERS!!!! I’m not lying. My whole face is numb, except for the part right above my eyes, which is on fire, I mean, I could almost feel the skin being singed, I’m blind in both eyes, with my black mascara now running muddy tracks down my face, and now she’s going to tweeze the 5 hairs she left on my face???

I only thought the waxing part hurt. I swear she had to be pulling, like 3 or 4 at a time! It was so torturous, I can’t even think of enough words to describe it. Everytime I thought she was done, she’d start again. I’m not lying, THREE times, she put down the tweezers, picked up a little pair of scissors, trimmed the skin that was left, then picked the tweezers back up and started again. The only way I can think to describe it is being given an injection with a 14 gauge needle repeatedly in the eye. By the time it was finally over, I was literally begging her to stop as she was on top of me, pinning me to the chair, plucking out every pore in my head.

And then, to add insult to serious injury, as she was guiding me to the front since I couldn’t see anything, she told me it would be $16 for the nails, and $24 for the eyebrows. If I’d had any strength whatsoever left in me, I’d have put up a serious fight about that and demanded that I get it for free. But then she took pity on me, and wrote down on a piece of paper so I could understand, as if that even helped since I WAS BLIND, that she was only charging me $8 for the eyebrows and $16 for the nails, so it was $24 total. Finally, I mustered up the last bit of strength I had, as I wiped the blood oozing from my face out of my eyes, and I told her that if she made me pay, then I was going to tweeze HER eyebrows, and she wouldn’t like that one little bit!!

No, but seriously, it really did hurt, but I didn’t cry until I got in my car and saw the bright red blister that covered my entire upper face. And she really did laugh at me when I involuntarily let out a small whimper.

Chump. Next time, I don’t care, I’m making Steven do it, because he won’t trick me into getting my eyebrows done!