Tug it slowly

With the party season looming large, it was only fit that I pay a visit to the parlour-next-door for the basic dolling up. Not that I care much, but my friend would kill me if I went out with her looking like a slob.
The regular place I hop to, seemed too far away this evening, especially with a back-breaking bag to shoulder around. Instead I went to a place frequented by my acquaintances in the neighbourhood. The incentive was instant service since they have so many attendants; just what one needs after a long day at work.
Set up in an apartment, I was instantly ushered into the Woman's Zone. This must be only the second unisex parlour I have been to. As soon as i stated my purpose of presence, I was handed a gown to change into. Other customers were lounging about on leather sofas getting pampered or tortured, depending on each ones threshold for pain. I felt like an overgrown child in the frock my attendant put me in. Strangely, I never asked her name, a question I always tend to ask people attending to me.
She began by getting my arms free of the fuzz. All the while she kept commenting 'You have such less growth'. She was courteous and every time I twitched she asked me if the wax was too hot. Her zeal also resulted in a big blob of wax sitting uglyly on my spaghetti top.
Then she put me up on a bed for smoother working for her. It was so absolutely strange! In the 11 odd years I have been to a parlour, no one makes you lie down for waxing! She then went on to tell me how lucky I was, and asked me if I would visit again after 2 months. She kept repeating to me that my skin was very soft, and hence I was starting to turn pink. That being far from the reason, I was getting uncomfortable by her presence in the tiny locked room.
After some tugging on the facial hair, I proceeded to settle the amount for their services. It was double the amount for everything!! And for what quality? Because I have never been this uncomfortable or twitched so much even when getting my stitches cut without anesthesia. Thank god I was not in want of a haircut.
Lesson for the Day: A longer walk to known territory is better than these across the road quick-fixes!