So there I was.
Minding my own business.
Next thing I know, shots ring out and I have
two holes in my head that weren't there the day before.

Ok wait, calm down.

My hairdresser, no, my "manifestation consultant"
called me and offered me an afternoon at the
Den of Vain Repute, to sit in her chair and be pampered.
Who am I to say no?

Having your hair washed by a trained professional feels
*SO* good. Complete with a scalp and neck massage.
You lean back, close your eyes and the warm water
coupled with strong fingers and great smelling shampoo
mixes into your hair. Ahhhh it's nice.

Except during the rinse. I mean, you get talking to them,
distracting them too much, and the next thing you know
you have a face full of water and the back of your shirt
is soggy. It's a sacrifice you make.

Then the deep conditioning treatment to make your hair
as silky and soft as humanly possible. And while it sits in
your hair for 15 minutes, you're served coffee, offered
magazines and chattered at. An afternoon of this would
make anyone feel special.

But you know.... that's where the painless part ENDS.

The head sadist, the owner of the complex strolls over.
I feel fingers poking my eyebrows, a look of consternation
crosses her face. She huddles with my "beauty technician"
and the two of them whisper, pointing at my face, which has
suddenly become somewhat of a disappointment to them I
think.

I am led back to the hair washing chair and tilted back.
My eyes are gently closed by caring fingers. And I feel a very
warm, sticky solution being spread on my eyebrows.
Such an odd sensation.
I then feel a cloth of some sort being patted over this sticky
solution, and the words "Ready Dave?" being spoken.

I feel a little confused, and start to say "Ready for what?"
However my words are drown out in a searing flash of
blinding white light as she rips the cloth off my eyebrow,
removing what FELT like half my face with it. My legs kick
straight out and my eyes fly open, but before I can yell I'm
being pushed back down in the chair.

"Don't open your eyes!!! Your eyelashes will get stuck in
the wax and pull 'em out!"

Instantly I close my eyes, fearing bald eyelids.
I feel hands on my shoulders gluing me into position and the
dreaded hot wax smears over my other eyebrow.
Whimpering like the coward I am, I prepare for the next blow.
Feeling the cloth rip away the OTHER half of my face.

A few moments later I'm told it's safe to open my eyes.

"What the ...............???????"

"Easy Dave, just a few touch ups, you're fine"

My perfectly arched eyebrows are burning.

I'm then hustled over to the chair, for my trim and see myself
for the first time. Deep angry red lines over my eyes where
most of my eyebrows USED to be. But now I have "arched"
brows. I guess the Brooke Shields look is no longer "in".
My hair is combed, trimmed and blow dried. It's soft, shiny
and wonderful. My eyes look like I've been crying for weeks,
but my hair looks lovely!

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the head sadist coming
my way again and wince in fear. She curls the hair from the
side of my face behind my ear and examines my ears.
I swear to GOD they are clean and hope she's just curious about
my personal hygiene.

She takes a purple marker and stands in front of me.
She places a dot on each lobe, above where
my gold hoop earrings are. Perhaps she's bored, so I let her
draw. Things to do when there's nothing to do I suppose.
I've been told my face is a canvas anyway. Whatever that means.

So there she is, dotting and drawing, then nods feeling
satisfied. I'm glad she's happy, and consider buying her
a colouring book for all her assistance in my pampering.

Oddly enough, she brings out a try of earrings, studs actually
and holds them under my nose, asking which I like. I think
they are all pretty, so I point to a set, thinking "Gee, they must
really like me to just want to give me some studs".

She nods and reaches into a tray, and to my surprise pulls out
a small gun.

I freak and reach for my wallet, shouting "Here, you can have it
all!" I move to exit the chair and plead for my life when she
quietly moves in front of me.

"Shhhhhhhhhhh"

I gape at all the other women, some under dryers, some filing
their nails, some just waiting in chairs for their turn in the
house of horrors, some are even sitting there SMILING at me.
But nobody is running to my assistance. A woman is
standing in front of me, loading a gun to shoot me with gold
studs and nobody is moving to stop her.
Oh the humanity!

I grip the arms of the chair tightly as she steps closer to me,
armed. My eyes widen.
I wince as the gun is aimed at my head.... cringing inwardly....
shrieking as the blast shattered my earlobe and screaming
inwardly as the pain coursed through my body.

"HELP I'VE BEEN SHOT!"

NOBODY moves.
I just can't believe it.
Not a soul offers to call 911,
nobody grabs her from behind and tackles her to the floor.

She moves to the other side of me and pulls the trigger again.
The resounding blast deafens me and another hole is placed
in my head that wasn't there before.

I'm now "double pierced".

She backs away and picks up a cotton swat, dips it in some
solution and places it over the punishingly new studs in my
ears. Of course they are soaked in rubbing alcohol, which
stings like nobody's business.

While the tears well in my eyes, another lady starts sweeping the
floor around me, the sadist places the swab over my
other ear and holds it.
And steps back, holding up a mirror.

All I see in this mirror is beautiful shining hair, two red welts
across my eyes, and purple throbbing ears.
THIS you call beautiful???? THIS you call pampering???

I limp to the cash register and open my wallet.
The sadist waves me away.
"No no, it's on the house Dave. Congratulations on losing
40 lbs."

In shock I walk out to my truck and sit in the drivers seat.

They rip my face off and shoot me twice, because I lost
a bit of weight. What happens if I lose more? Do they
decapitate me, or is it burning at the stake?

I see an eldery lady being dropped off by her husband.
All I can do is yell out my window...
"Don't do it, man. If you love her, get her out of here now,
before it's too late!!!!"

And with a screetch of tires, I'm OUTTA there.

Take me home! Main Dave's Chronicles