The eyebrow is a fairly small patch of hair, when you really think about it. And, after all, who really notices eyebrows? (So long as there are TWO, that is.) When was the last time you heard men having this conversation:
Man 1: Wow, take a look at that bombshell over there.
Man 2: Which one?
Man 1: The brunette with the kickin' curves!
Man 2: Oh yeah, she's hot.
Man 1: Pity though, she's so gorgeous, but then there's that...issue.
Man 2: What, what's wrong with her?
Man 1: Look at those eyebrows.
Man 2: Oh....yeah...that's too bad. Heavy eyebrows...she's disfigured.
Man 1: How can she even be out in public with eyebrows like that?
|"NO MORE EYE BROW WAX|
|Not bad for a Wednesday night!|
Her hands smell like corn chips.
|Seriously..is Frito Lay making soap now?|
Today the eyebrows must have been super unruly because I thought we were done and I opened my eyes
(NEVER OPEN YOUR EYES DURING AN EYEBROW WAX)
to see Corn Chip Hands hover over me with SCISSORS!
She did a bit of trimming...and I was done. She held the mirror up to my face...I was still in a reclining position and as we all know, fat falls backward so it was, quite possibly, the ugliest reflection of myself I've seen in a while, especially since my bangs were pinned back, revealing my halo of white hair...and said, "What do you think?"
Well, I think I'm old and fat.
Oh, the eyebrows.
Hey, they look great. I'm good for at least another six months, which is about the time I'll have to go back again and get them ripped off because I'm sure I'll be doing something else social that will require me to have perfect eyebrows.