Saturday, July 1, 2017

The One With The Wax

I have made it to the ripe ole age of 47 without ever having a massage, a facial, hair blow-out, waxing, eye brow shaping, basically anything spa-related. Except pedicures. I've had a few of those. I love them! In fact, when I become rich and famous, I shall get one every day. But I digress. I've never been to any sort of spa. Mainly because I just haven't had the disposable income to do so, but also because I'm completely intimidated by the idea. In fact, a couple years ago, I got a spa gift certificate for Christmas from an agency for whom I'd done some writing, and I gave it away. I was too scared to go to a spa. I know, I know, I have issues.

A couple months ago, I got a certificate, from a rep who came to my school, to use on a package at a place called Enlighten Med Spa. The certificate was good for a hydrafacial, a fat reduction ultrasound treatment, a body wrap, and either 5 units of Botox, a skin tightening session, or a Swedish massage. Another coworker and I finally made appointments to go.

I had an appointment with my hematologist in the morning, but my facial appointment was for an hour and a half after my doctor's appointment, and the spa was only 5 miles away. No problem. Especially since I was just going in to get my finger pricked to check my INR (the joys of being on blood thinners for life.) However, because doctor's offices don't understand the concept of an appointment (You know how to take the reservation appointment, but you don't know how to keep the reservation appointment, and really the keeping of the reservation appointment is the most important part of the reservation appointment.) they didn't call me back to a room until an hour after my scheduled time. The nurse, who I've never seen before, fiddled around with the machine for a good 5 minutes while I stood there, trying really hard not to roll my eyes. Then he stabbed my finger so far to the side, he practically hit my nail. Shockingly, it didn't bleed enough to get a drop on the test strip. You know, because nails don't bleed. So he tried again with another finger and once again, he poked the side of my finger. (I think he learned you should prick the finger off to the side a little to reduce pain, but he took it to the extreme.) I resisted the urge to shout, "Oh for crying out loud, give it to me! I'll do it!" and instead offered a blank face (truly the best I could do) as he attempted to squeeze a drop of blood on the tester.

After my appointment, I rushed to the spa and arrived a good 20 minutes late. Yay me. Thankfully, the staff was really nice and understanding. After filling out paperwork, I was shown to a little waiting room, complete with ambient lighting, a tranquil water fountain, soothing music, and chaise lounges with pillows. The receptionist showed me a coffee maker, a pitcher of lemon water and a container of paraffin wax. She told me to help myself and relax until it was my turn. My friend had shown up on time and was already in the process of getting her facial so I poured myself a glass of water and walked around the little room admiring the lights and the water element. I eyed the container of wax. Curious, I walked over and removed the lid. The container held several inches of melted paraffin. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then I gingerly dipped a finger in to test how hot it was. It was warm and gooey. Niiiice. Thinking ahead, I removed my rings and dropped them into my purse before plunging my hand in, up to my wrist. I sunk my other hand into the warm, melted wax, then removed them. You know how I was smart and removed my rings before submersing my hands in wax? Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to also removed my bracelets and hair tie. They're still encased in wax, preserved forever. Or until I pick it all off.

I turned from the wax container and looked around the room, my hands held up as if I'd just scrubbed in for surgery. Now what? What am I supposed to do? In front of the basin of wax were several clear plastic bags. Am I supposed to put these on my hands? Maybe they're for something else entirely. I searched the walls for a poster of step-by-step wax instructions for dummies. Nothing. Maybe the bags were used to dispose of the wax after you picked it off? I desperately looked around again, hunting for some answer as to what I was supposed to do now. I kept having flashbacks of Joey dipping his fingers in the hot wax when he got his eyebrow (singular) done.

Finally, I gave up and started rubbing my hands together, paraffin peeling off into a giant ball of wax. I picked stray chunks off my nails and squished them into the growing orb in my hand. Great, now I have this great glob of wax and I still don't know what to do with it. As I searched for a garbage can, my eyes fell on the little plastic bags again. Like Indiana Jones stealing the idol, I quickly snatched a bag lest anyone catch me which would startle me, causing me to drop the ball of wax, making it roll down the hallway. I deposited the glob of wax in the bag, shoved it in my purse, sat down with my little cup of lemon water, legs crossed, a mask of innocence plastered to my face just as my friend and the technician, beautician, facialist, whatever they're called, came out. Who me? Fine, fine. Just sitting here, patiently waiting. Not touching anything I shouldn't. Ahem.

Shortly, I was lead back to a little room also with dim lighting, a comfy bed-like table with pillows and blankets. I removed my shoes, lay back, and let the nice young girl go to work. She massaged a series of concoctions on my face, cleansing, exfoliating, moisturizing. Then she used some sort of vacuum-like machine that sucked my face off. Okay, it didn't really. It was very gentle suction and felt kind of good as she moved the instrument over my face, sucking junk out of my pores.

As she was doing this, she commented, "You have really good skin. It's nice and smooth."

"What is your skin care regimen?" she inquired.

"Um, I fall asleep with my makeup on 9 times out of 10 and then I wash it off in the shower in the morning and reapply."

Apparently this is not the typical answer she receives. I suppose women who can afford to go to this spa probably use actual cleanser and moisturizer on their faces every day. She instructed my friend to make me go get some makeup removing wipes at least. When she'd finished with the sucky thing, she waved a light saber of some sort over my face. I really don't remember what it was for, but I didn't really care. I was lying down relaxing and no kids were fighting in the background. She could've been rubbing salsa on my face and shining a flashlight over it for all I cared.

When I finished, the receptionist brought us mimosas which we enjoyed while scheduling our next appointment for the fat reduction and wellness wrap. I just can't wait for that one. :/


Barny said...

You hear "You have really good skin, it's nice and smooth."
We hear "It rubs the lotion on its skin."

Anonymous said...

Hi there, I read your new stuff daily. Your
humoristic style is witty, keep it up!

Cindy said...

Did you ever find out what the wax was for?! (As you can tell, I've never been to a spa either!)

Pattie C. said...

If we lived on the same coast we could go do this together because I'm the one that would do something exactly like you (and have). So what did you do with the wax and did you ever find out what you were really supposed to do with it?

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