advance...probably six months ago. And who am I to stop her from joining her parents and brother on a lovely cruise through Nova Scotia...sounds blissful really...September, gorgeous weather, friendly Canadians--everyone wins, right? Well...thing is, you guys know me....you know if nothing else I will show up at your cocktail parties carrying a delicious appetizer, a tray of desserts and my nails will be done, eyebrows neat, legs waxed and lipgloss in place...my shoe closet may be in disarray and dinner dishes are sitting in the sink, but my grooming...well, that is about the only thing in my life I can guarantee will always be in order. All thanks to Michelle.A little background--I have been visiting Michelle on a virtual weekly basis since I was
seventeen years old (subtract a few months-long stretches in Easton, MA during the late 80's and early 90's when the Jersey in me had no choice but to settle for badly waxed brows and jagged nails like all the other coeds...it was a dark time....). So honestly, I see Michelle more than I do my family and friends...I know about her life, and her days as a dressmaker and a dancer at Studio 54 and how she lived in the Village back in the late 70's with a famous drag queen...and yes, Michelle knows my parents and friends and kids...and all of my secrets too. So we have become very close...she is like a big sister crossed with the love child of Elton John and Cher in one fab package.So, at any rate...when Michelle is out of town, I stay loyal to our arrangement and usually give
the grooming a break for a few extra days (Hey, a little aside for the guys: so you understand...women only wax themselves every few weeks, so don't get these horrible, frightening images in your minds, I know no women for whom waxing is a weekly need...for me, it's the mani/pedis that are my regularly scheduled obsession....). But this weekend, I couldn't postpone my standard routine, as in a few days I am off on another glamorous business trip (Cleveland Rocks!!) and that would put me at two weeks....and no one wants to be around me when I haven't had a grooming fix.
the grooming a break for a few extra days (Hey, a little aside for the guys: so you understand...women only wax themselves every few weeks, so don't get these horrible, frightening images in your minds, I know no women for whom waxing is a weekly need...for me, it's the mani/pedis that are my regularly scheduled obsession....). But this weekend, I couldn't postpone my standard routine, as in a few days I am off on another glamorous business trip (Cleveland Rocks!!) and that would put me at two weeks....and no one wants to be around me when I haven't had a grooming fix. So, against my
better judgement I called one of the other local Salons...This one is disguised as a high-end establishment with lovely bottled water and pretty cushy nail stations, but it was clearly a Sweatshop filled with round-the-clock underage salon girls who spoke no English. I knew in seconds that I was being profiled by the two lovely Asian women who ran the joint...I totally felt like Elaine Benes as they whispered to one another and giggled while I picked out my sparkly pink polish (which was ironically and aptly named Secret Affair...). So, I am introduced to my hostess for the day and lead over to my spot where "Cindy" smiles demurely and begins her standard Sweatshop manicure. So I watch the clock on the wall, gaze out the window and hope that it wouldn't take long...praying away the guilt I was feeling for cheating on Michelle and her loyal spa services with Cindy the Sweatshop Manicure Hooker (damn, that Catholic guilt hits us everywhere, no? Push it down, I say!).
better judgement I called one of the other local Salons...This one is disguised as a high-end establishment with lovely bottled water and pretty cushy nail stations, but it was clearly a Sweatshop filled with round-the-clock underage salon girls who spoke no English. I knew in seconds that I was being profiled by the two lovely Asian women who ran the joint...I totally felt like Elaine Benes as they whispered to one another and giggled while I picked out my sparkly pink polish (which was ironically and aptly named Secret Affair...). So, I am introduced to my hostess for the day and lead over to my spot where "Cindy" smiles demurely and begins her standard Sweatshop manicure. So I watch the clock on the wall, gaze out the window and hope that it wouldn't take long...praying away the guilt I was feeling for cheating on Michelle and her loyal spa services with Cindy the Sweatshop Manicure Hooker (damn, that Catholic guilt hits us everywhere, no? Push it down, I say!).All of a sudden, Cindy asks me something...I smile and say yes, not really knowing to what I am agreeing. Her next question is: "How long you like it?", to which I say "oh, well, not to
o long." Keep in mind, I am not quite sure what I said I like or how long I should like it...and she says something else and then nods. So I assume I'm in the clear....until my manicure is done and she grabs all my stuff--my handbag, my shades, my phone--and leads me to one of those massage chairs in which you have to contort your body, shove your face into a doughnut hole shaped leather cushion. And I am just staring at her and she basically pushes me into the seat, my knees all bunched up and my low-rise Lucky jeans sliding down a little too low...I kind of feel violated, but I just blush and go with it...I assume this is part of their manicure package and I close my eyes, bite my tongue and go to my happy place (bellinis on the lawn at The Wauwinet, FYI....).
o long." Keep in mind, I am not quite sure what I said I like or how long I should like it...and she says something else and then nods. So I assume I'm in the clear....until my manicure is done and she grabs all my stuff--my handbag, my shades, my phone--and leads me to one of those massage chairs in which you have to contort your body, shove your face into a doughnut hole shaped leather cushion. And I am just staring at her and she basically pushes me into the seat, my knees all bunched up and my low-rise Lucky jeans sliding down a little too low...I kind of feel violated, but I just blush and go with it...I assume this is part of their manicure package and I close my eyes, bite my tongue and go to my happy place (bellinis on the lawn at The Wauwinet, FYI....). So I try to convince myself--I am stressed right now, got a lot going on--a massage will do me good. Well....wishful thinking, I suppose. Cindy proceeds to pinch and poke and prod and pull on 
my arms and shoulders and neck...and it kind of hurts, but not in a good relaxing way. More in an annoying and distracting way. And this goes on...For. Twenty. Minutes. Straight. The worst comes when she literally starts slapping my back...loudly...the other patrons stop their light conversing because the pounding on my back is too distracting. Again, I am blushing and my face is jammed into that doughnut, my jeans still slipping off my hips and my knees practically numb. This is so not relaxing...why would anyone find this relaxing??? And then, suddenly, Cindy taps me on the head and it is all over...Frankly...I feel dirty....
my arms and shoulders and neck...and it kind of hurts, but not in a good relaxing way. More in an annoying and distracting way. And this goes on...For. Twenty. Minutes. Straight. The worst comes when she literally starts slapping my back...loudly...the other patrons stop their light conversing because the pounding on my back is too distracting. Again, I am blushing and my face is jammed into that doughnut, my jeans still slipping off my hips and my knees practically numb. This is so not relaxing...why would anyone find this relaxing??? And then, suddenly, Cindy taps me on the head and it is all over...Frankly...I feel dirty....So, I immediately jump up, grab my stuff, putting on my giant sunglasses a la Nicole Richie 
(goddess) so I could avoid the looks of everyone in the place and go to pay my bill. They hand me the ticket and in addition to my bargain basement $12 Sweatshop manicure, I owe $30 for my "Chair Massage." Whwhwhwhwhaaaaat???? Are you sh*tting me???? And then I remember Cindy and her unintelligible questions and the whole "how long you like it?" thing and I realize I agreed to this farce, though unintentionally...but I just throw cash at them and slink out.
(goddess) so I could avoid the looks of everyone in the place and go to pay my bill. They hand me the ticket and in addition to my bargain basement $12 Sweatshop manicure, I owe $30 for my "Chair Massage." Whwhwhwhwhaaaaat???? Are you sh*tting me???? And then I remember Cindy and her unintelligible questions and the whole "how long you like it?" thing and I realize I agreed to this farce, though unintentionally...but I just throw cash at them and slink out. For a moment I kind of felt sympathy for all of those guys out there (none of you, I am sure...) who are just getting an innocent little massage above some dingy storefront on Queens Boulevard and are offered a "Happy Ending". And I understand now why said guy might politely agree...until five minutes in (why stop it, I mean....once you agree....) when the cops are pointing a gun in his face and he's being booked 
at the One-Ten, the wife on the way in from Babylon to get him in her new minivan...ugh...how demoralizing. I suppose that's the punishment I might deserve for being a Spa Services Junkie, right?
at the One-Ten, the wife on the way in from Babylon to get him in her new minivan...ugh...how demoralizing. I suppose that's the punishment I might deserve for being a Spa Services Junkie, right? Michelle couldn't possibly return from Canada fast enough--in fact, if she asked me to drive up there and get her, I just might. I am so getting a full service package next week and tipping her extra big. No more Salon Whoring for me....
well, at least until Michelle takes that trip to China she's been talking about...
Photo 1: There we are, Michelle and I way back in the day...is that Palmolive I am soaking in?
Photo 2: Michelle's mom and dad back in the 70's
Photo 3: My foot, newly pedicured and in a fabulous shoe...so I was also wearing pajamas, at least my feet were looking hot.
Photo 4: Essie's "Secret Affair": iridescent pink nail lacquer....Let's all admit it--who can resist a little sparkly finish to complete a look?
Photo 5: The view from the lawn at The Wauwinet...bliss...
Photo 6: That woman looks way more comfortable than I was....
Photo 7: My post-massage escape...as played by Nicole Richie...
Photo 8: This place looks totally respectable...couldn't possibly be prostitutes inside...
5 comments:
Shame on you!! I called on Fri. to get my eyebrows waxed and was horrified to find out, Michelle was on vacation. I would never try someplace else no matter how desperate (and I am in dire need of Michelle's magic). I just kept my sunglasses on all weekend and am waiting patiently for her to return.
Too funny, you just made my day. I am sitting at work, a little bored, and now I am all smiles. The people around me are wondering why I am laughing. I could need a manicre, worked a bunch of horses yesterday, and my nails look like shit, but my hair looks good, got it cut Friday. I finally found a great person to cut my hair, I miss Carmen who used to cut it in Wyckoff, but I guess it would be too much to ask him to come visit me in Norway every 6 weeks.
Have a great day Suz.
Tina
Oh God...don't even get me started on failed happy endings...
like, there was this one time, at an asian establishment in the east 20's in NYC, when all of a sudden in through the door came...
ahh, err, hmm...
ok, maybe this isn't the time or the place, but let's say, I know what you mean...
Snapple spewing at the term waxologist. I imagine a certificate in Waxological arts would be offered by Sally Struthers right up there with Tv/VCR repair.
Your experience sounds very "Angel Tips" - i have no problem telling them NO! I always leave and risk the toes being dinged to avoid that uncomfortable touching. No way any one is placing me face down in a leather chair at the onset of flu season, paper towel or not.
This is why my brows are in need of a good pluck and my toes in need of fresh layer of paint. It's going to have to wait...
Michelle will be back soon..I'll see if i can get you a copy of the Rosetta Stone Cds to understand Korean so you can say "no thanks" next time.
Thanks for the laughs - goodness I needed that today. That, and the fact that you've reminded me - I've gotta get my grooming fix in immediately!
Hail to all those Michelle's out there!
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