hanging by a thread

I inherited many good things from my father: a raunchy sense of humor, an inquiring mind, an almost Puritan work ethic.

(...okay, I need to stop here and elaborate on that latter point for those of you who are keenly familiar with my work habits and are J.K. LOLing right now. True, I spend an inordinate amount of time at work slacking my ass off, but I ALWAYS get my shit done and done well. Plus---and I always play this card, but I freakin' earned it---I came in with bronchitis once because I knew we were going to be short staffed due to holiday vacations. As far as I'm concerned, that earns me a lifetime pass for the occasional---okay, daily---scroll through Cheezburger land.)

But I also inherited some bad things, too, like a ferocious temper (though mine is much slower to ignite than his, once it lights it's UGLY), poor impulse control, and Doberman eyebrows.

You know what I mean, right? Just thick little shapeless blotches of hair right above my eyes. Like this:





So regular eyebrow maintenance is a must for me. I don't do too many stereotypically girly things, because I'm too busy killing zombies and farting, but I refuse to have miniature Hitler mustaches taking up residence above my eyes.

Anyway, I was at a local mall the other day and noticed that a new "eyebrow shaping" salon had just opened up. I was slightly overdue, so I went inside and said "Hi, I'd like my eyebrows waxed, please."

The woman behind the counter barely glanced up from her magazine and said, all in one breath, "Wedontdowaxonlythreading."

Threading?

A vague memory of something I'd read nudged a crease in my brain.

Ah yes, threading!

Let me school ya with a little help from my main man, Wikipedia: "Threading is an ancient method of hair removal...popular in many Arabic countries. Practitioners use a pure, thin, twisted cotton thread which is rolled over untidy hairlines, moustaches and so on, plucking the hair at the follicle level. Unlike tweezing where a single hair is pulled out each time, threading can remove an entire row of hair, resulting in a straighter line. However, due to a larger area of hair being removed at once, it can be quite painful for some."

That vague memory conveniently forgot to mention that last part.

I figured I was there anyway and it was cheaper than waxing, so why not give it a try? "Okay, that's fine!" I chirped.

Audibly sighing, the woman put her magazine down and led me to what looked like a dentist's chair. I took my glasses off and, with no small tredipation, sat down. She tilted me back, leaned over me, and wiped down my brow with aloe vera gel.

And then.

And THEN.

Put down your sammich, 'cause this shit nasty.

She leaned over me and I swear on all that is holy the bitch smelled like USED DENTAL FLOSS.

My brain, being evil, thought "Huh, is she using the same thread on my face as she used after her lunch?"

My almond crunch Wetzel's Pretzel teased the back of my throat as she got closer and closer. I read once, in an article about morgue technicians, that if you grin as wide as you can, it is physically impossible to gag. So I broke out my best Joker on mescaline grin as she began the procedure. She probably thought I was a total masochist.

ZZZZZZZZzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZzzzz...

As she worked over my eyebrows, it sounded exactly like somebody sawing a thin board in half. More than a little disconcerting. But although it didn't feel like orgasms and ice cream, it didn't hurt as much as waxing, and (fortunately for my nostrils) lasted all of two minutes.

"Kayyouredone," the threader said. I put on my glasses and checked out my eyebrows in the mirror: looking good! Gratefully, I hopped out of the chair and paid her, throwing in a 20% tip.

Tactfully, I did not suggest that she use the tip for A) enunciation lessons or B) mouthwash.