I worked in an ICU that employed people to do nothing but watch the cardiac and video monitors from all the patient rooms. These people were not specially trained, nor were they well paid.
One young lady had higher aspirations. She was in Beauty School.
One day she told me she was finishing her first half, and needed a “model” for her half-final. It would be a relaxing day of beauty, all free. Haircut, manicure, facial and lower leg wax, free.
I agreed to be her subject. I arrived at the agreed time of 8:30AM. Remember, I normally worked nights, so I was seeing the day from the wrong end.
She introduced me to her instructor, then took me to her station. First, a wash. In minutes I was drenched head to toe. Back to her station with several towels, for my cut. I had fairly short hair style at the time, much in need of a trim. We talked about what she would do to bring back the Dorothy Hammel in me.
She kept saying oops, under her breath. I’d ask if there was a problem, but always get a smiling, “No, everything’s fine.”
I now know why there were no mirrors at the student stations. After an hour of oops, she said she had to call her instructor over. The instructor actually gasped when she saw me. :eek: It grew out, eventually.
Why I didn’t leave then, I can’t really say, but I didn’t. So, on to the facial. To keep this short(er), I’ll just say I think the girl invented the chemical peel.
The manicure was marginally better, except for the nail polish on my cuticles.
THEN, we went to a new station, behind a screen. She told me to take my shoes off. I did. She left them where I’d removed them, just in front of the chair. The chair was a sort of recliner, without the middle section, from knees to feet. She plugged in the honey pot and got her supplies ready, while it began to boil.
She dipped the little wooden spatula into the boiling pot, and smacked it onto my leg, just below my knee. :eek: I screamed. The instructor came running. My torturer stopped her, saying everything was fine. IT WAS NOT FINE! She then spread the rapidly cooling wax down my leg, tugging the hair more and more as the wax solidified. She pressed the cloth strips onto the wax, and pulled from the top down. I screamed again and again she headed off the instructor. The instructor looked in anyway, noticed the bubbling pot and turned the temperature down.
Now the wax gave only second degree burns when applied, and the hair toward my foot actually pulled out with the application. Again she pulled from the top down.
This time another student came to see who was screaming. She stepped in as Miss Mengele was pulling. The other student said, “Oh I thought you were supposed to pull the other way, and hold the skin…” My captor replied, “Oh yeah, that’s right.” :dubious: Second student agreed to help, so the two of them continued.
Finally finishing at 4:30PM. The instructor came in to grade her work. As the perfect end to such a perfect day, she failed all but the manicure. Then with a totally straight face, told me to come back in four weeks for her retest. :eek:
I got out of the chair only to find my shoes full of wax!
When I got home, I took a close look at my legs. They were interesting, to say the least. Those first two pulls had created long bruises, so, I had alternating stripes; red and blue, opposite hairy, white. I guess I looked patriotic.
And, no, I did not go back in four weeks. Of course, I also didn’t tell the poor schmuck that did what had happened to me.