I was stunned to see the appointment. A 5:15p.m. root canal would have been just as shocking. Why was I scheduled for this? I wasn't ready. I decided that a professional would take the appointment and do her best. Besides, my store manager was very aware of the situation and offered no other option. Is it more professional to respect your client's time or your client's body? If the appointment had gone well, despite my odds, I would have thought the former.
In my pub days, time meant everything. If I was in the weeds, someone got her drinks a little late and my tips would suffer. Well, here, I won't be spilling pale ale. I'll be spilling hot wax. On your genitals.
I was lucky to have an exceptionally patient client. My luck ended there. A 15 minute service stretched into something like 40 minutes. The wax dried either too slow or too fast. Half of the time, the hair didn't even come up. I felt like time had stopped. The rest of the world was frozen in the middle of their conversations. Drops of rain were suspended in the sky. I was spinning like a firecracker in the middle of this silent world, holding a popsicle stick as if it were a magic wand...my only weapon against the dreadful standstill.
We were closed when I finished. They actually had to unlock the front door to let my client out. Another esthetician asked me if the client knew she was my first Brazilian and I thought...
She does now.
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