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Indian Talent, Global Content |
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The Beauty Parlor
It was a spanking new place with well-clad assistants and knowledgeable experts, eager to please and softly spoken as they went about their business quickly and efficiently. I needed a bleach and a facial. No problem, with you in a minute, they said and they were with me in a minute too! Yet I was nervous and tense. Now here I must admit that I have had a love hate relationship with beauty parlors all my adult life. My experiences have not exactly been of the ecstatic variety. Five out of every ten visits on an average have resulted in my either looking like a shorn chicken head or a mottled apple or a blotched chimp. I don’t quite know how but these experts who work these parlors have a way of having their way with you! And they have transformed intimidation into an art form, they do it so well, it must perhaps have been a part of their curriculum! When you try to put forth an opinion, you are either listened to rather condescendingly or ignored disdainfully! Excuse me, aren’t they in the business of making people look good? What would you know? Your individual experience does not a candle hold to their vast experience. Aren’t they dealing with hundreds of beauties while you are dealing with just lil ole you and a no great beauty at that? And each hairstylist knows she is better than your previous one and each beautician knows she is superior to the last one you went to! While I am not one of those submissive kinds, these women in their white coats have me beat each time. Going into a probable battle at an unknown place knowing that the winner might not be me, did never appeal to me. Anyway, here was I, being attended to and all appeared to go well; the bleach is on, my pedicure done, till …I tell them its time to remove the bleach. No madam it needs a few more minutes to catch. I tell them no, I’ll start to burn …No way, madam this is an “imported” bleach, it will not …I say, pleeese take it off, its beginning to itch …no madam that’s natural …My skin is beginning to peel, I whimper, please call your manager …oh! Oh, ok madam, yes you are perhaps right. I panic, they panic! The manager floats in, murmurs confidently…nothing to worry, its alright, will be ok once the bleach is off! And the bleach is finally hurriedly off and I ask for a mirror .I don’t get one. I ask for it again, I still don’t get one. Instead ice is being rubbed all over, frantically and expertly in a contrived air of calm…I ask for a mirror again …They say they’ve gone to get one!! Now I throw a tantrum, the mirror appears magically and I look at myself …I almost faint!! My once pleasant enough face, neither fair nor dark is a mottled red, a deep burnt out red, almost dark showing up the whites of my eyes and teeth, with deep welts wherever I guess, the skin was more sensitive. I am devastated! They tell me to just give it a few minutes. It will all go down, nothing to worry, your skin is the sensitive kind, we’ve dealt with so many of this type…no problem, just remain calm. I ask for the mirror again, this time they whisk me off for my facial…but just a minute, can a facial be done on this skin? A hurried and whispered consultation ensues, followed by even more, uncertain consultations, then the facial expert comes along, now, its a hearty, nothing to it madam, it will take care of the problem. What problem? Your allergy...My Allergy? And I am flat on my back, with ice and more ice slapped on my poor sore face! First the papaya, then cucumber, and then every fruit in the garden I suspect, with ice and more ice, everything in cool cream, the steaming has been done away with …thank god… and they are… finally thru! All ok, they tell me. I look at myself and I see that the swelling and redness has reduced drastically but what I now have is a fine blonde hairy make over! Every single strand of hair on my face is a golden blonde- brown showing up to effect on my tanned face! My neighbor’s golden retriever looked less shaggy! I turn hysterical and a solution is found! They will wax my face. No says another, one does not wax after a bleach …the debate carries on …I refuse to leave till some normality is achieved. Finally when the face had ‘settled down’ the experts decide to thread my face… on the house they said. And what a painful experience that turned out to be! Finally with sore and hurting hairless face, red and mottled arms and neck, clean and finely pedicured feet I go home. Lighter by a few thousand rupees, which I must admit they were willing to forego and wiser by the hours spent there as I realized that an all India Brand name also, alas, doth not a beauty parlor make- any different. It took a whole week for me to get back to a semblance of my normal look, and a whole six months to recover mentally. It’s been a while now, and my hair is long, my feet unpolished, my face, arms and neck untouched. In time, like the pain pangs of pregnancy, I might forget my trauma, but for the moment …I still do not dare!
>> Read more articles written by Chillibreeze writers:1. Articles related to Content and Outsourcing
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