Paid torture

On Saturday morning, I woke up bright and early (relatively, anyway), showered, changed and took myself off to Jackson Heights for a session of torture. Cost: $8 plus tip.

I walked in and took a seat against the wall, opened up my newspaper and prepared to wait my turn. It was unusually busy -- usually, I never have to wait. People are developing a taste for torture, apparently.

I settled myself in the leather chair when my number came up, and leaned my head back. The woman, armed with her weapon, approached. As the thread, one end attached to her fingers, and the other held ominously between her bared teeth closed in on my upper lip, I squeezed my eyes shut, clutched the arm of the chair, and braced myself.

She did her thing with the thread, and a few minutes, several tears and many deep breaths later, the first torture session was over. The result--a clean, bare upper lip. After a few seconds of respite--during which she took in the state of my eyebrows, shook her head disapprovingly and muttered, "Tsk. You haven't come in for a long time"--she attacked the area above my eyes.

More tears, many gulps of air, and much intense pain, and the ordeal was finally over. I paid, got my loyalty card dutifully stamped, and left, my eyebrows and upperlip still red and smarting.

Until my next torture session, that is, which comes with a free upperlip thread. Yaay!

Funny how life evolves--pulling out bodily hair used to be a form of torture. Now, we travel halfway across the city, wait patiently, and gladly dish out money for it. What is the world coming to?