I got a facial a few days ago, and it was probably the most pain I have ever experienced in my whole life.
The lady who was doing the facial literally poked out my pimples one by one with needles. Facial Lady said, “Oh, honey, I need to unclog your pores. They are very clogged and you will have moles if I don’t unclog them.”
The lady got to a particularly bad spot on my nose, and I started crying. “I want my mom,” I sniffled.
“Mommy’s in a hair appointment right now, sweetie. Just let me unclog your pores.” Facial Lady said.
Hopelessly, I nodded. “Only a few more minutes of stabbing, and then it will be done.” I thought to myself as an attempt at reassurance.
*2 HOURS OF PIMPLE STABBING LATER*
“The pain is done, sweetie.” Facial Lady said.
I was positive my face was smeared in blood at this point. I let out a sigh of relief.
“But now I have to put antiseptic on you so the pores don’t get infected, okay, honey?” Facial Lady said.
I nodded. Facial Lady then splashed some rubbing alcohol onto her hands and rubbed it all over my face. Surprisingly, it didn’t sting.
“I will be back in 20 minutes. Don’t move a muscle.” Facial Lady warned.
*20 BORING MINUTES OF LISTENING TO MUFFLED POP MUSIC (BECAUSE I COULDN’T GET UP AND GET MY IPOD) LATER*
The lady patted my face with a towel.
“Now, time for eyebrows.” Facial Lady said.
*15 MINUTES OF EYEBROW TWEEZING LATER*
“Tell Mommy to book an appointment with me for LED light treatment. We usually use it for old people with wrinkly skin, but it works great with acne. Also, I will give the front desk the name of a special product because your dermatologist isn’t doing a good job with your face. Here’s an LED treatment pamphlet and a 20% off coupon. See you soon!” Facial Lady chirped.
“Okay, thank you so much!” I said. Then, I put on my shoes and coat faster than I have ever done so in my life, ran to my mother, and gave her a big hug. While Mom was busy studying her new (and shnazzy) hairdo in the mirror, Annie, my mom’s hairdresser, came up to me.
“How was the facial?” Annie asked.
“It hurt!” I said truthfully.
“I don’t like facials, either. They’re really painful.” Annie replied.
“Really?” I asked, in shock.
“Yeah.” Annie led me over to the desk and took out a box of delectable-looking, chewy chocolate chip cookies.
“Here, take as many as you want.” Annie offered kindly.
Of course, this is the moment when my mother decided to finish admiring her newly straightened hair. “Maisie, two cookies, and that’s it.”
Annie laughed, and I took exactly two cookies. “Thank you.” I said, smiling.
Then, my mom and I walked out into the cold, and I told her the entire story.