I have noticed something strange about this self-announced city in which I live. The beauty salons have tolerable names. They have genuinely expensive products lining their windows. Their prices are MORE than market level. But I just can’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief after I escape not looking like the Queen of Hearts.
Ambience plays a big role, you know. And of course, the beauty professionals must look like they know how to make people, including themselves, look good. And maybe this is just a prejudice of mine, but I cannot believe that men know anything about threading eyebrows. So please keep your hands away from my face. What’s that you say? You’re a trained professional? Nope, sorry, I would rather look like a wild animal for a month more till I get home and go near more convincingly professional people.
Hence, a fair warning. If you see a creature like this
around you for the next month, do not panic. It’s just me.