Frame those eyes
'There is one thing I can't afford to neglect even if I decided to stay in the forest with blind bats. My eyebrows. I am extremely conscious and will go to lengths to get them trimmed/threaded/waxed whatever the country is willing to offer by the time the stubble can even say'Boo'. '
'There was a time when this guy kept looking at my eyes. Flustered, I was bracing myself to refuse any requests for a date.'What's that poky poky thing near your eyebrows?' he asked after much deliberation and to my mortification. '
'I inherited my thick brows from my dad (thanks, pa). Looks rugged and great on him but looks like I sprouted caterpillars and painted them black, not to mention the caterpillars that meet at the bridge of my nose. So you can see my predicament and necessity to have them look like eyebrows periodically when they start to go out of control. With the thick nature of my eyebrows, you could shape them as anything, even George W if you so wished. My brows grow at an alarming rate of ½ a nanometer per day without fertilizers and need to be fixed every 2 weeks.'
'It's a five minute ordeal, even that, as you guys (especially guys) know. So I hate having to travel far and wide (to better places) to attend to this minor detail. The Vietnamese place I go to (on the way from work) is exceedingly rude, barring the fact that she insists on talking only in Vietnamese to me, animatedly.
'I feel this is a nice method for venting about bad eyebrows.
'Suddenly she switches to English and sometimes I do recognize the fact, "Vely thick haaail!"'
'"So Thiiiick, yowl iblouse!" she drones again.'
"Yes, I agree." I agreeably agree.
"Too much Haiiil. Tsk tsk!" She persistently whines.
"‘Why do you think I freaking come here?' '
'Yes, why do I go there?! Before I could envision a place where eyebrow artists know how to treat their guinea pigs, I was smacked on my head for stirring! Owwwch! Need to find a civil and cheap place.'
'Voila, I found one near my house. I walked in skeptically to see Vietnamese people (methinks this is an ancient mandatory art in Vietnam) and drew conclusions about treatment meted to costumers. After all, I am a stereotypical human-being. With not much of a choice, I was willing to give it a try. "Blouse?" I asked pointing to my eyebrows.'
"Five dollas", she said politely.
I did a little caterpillar dance as the previous place used to charge a staggering six dollars (with abuse).
She ushered me into a separate'eyebrow' room. Made me lie down on what could be construed as a bed. A bed for an eyebrow trim? Very suspicious indeed. I had no way to communicate my suspicions as her English vocabulary ended with'five dollars'. She turned on some bright bed-lights on my face and started performing the'eyebrow' trimming act, which turned out to be more elaborate than an open-heart surgery. Very patiently she laid the tiny wax strips on my face and worked on it for almost an hour by which time my patience had decided that I wasn't going to come here ever again even if my brows looked like the St.Loius arch.'
'Eerie silence was too much to bear. Why couldn't she talk to me in Vietnamese at least?! Or berate me for having thick unruly eyebrows? How about smacking my face, you antisocial being?'
'I could have tolerated a flight to India, but this was one of a kind torture that I will never want to suffer again. It was like being held hostage by a very boring villain. By the end of it, she showed me the mirror proudly. Holiest crap! Every stray hair was intact, jeering at me. What the heck was she doing for such a long time? Stunned, I looked carefully hoping she had reconstructed my nose or something. No such luck.'
"‘Ok?" she asked beaming.'
"‘Yeah. Thanks." I pulled out six dollars, handed it over and ran for my freedom, almost tripping over the doormat. '