I presume most of you have seen the reality comedy show where a certain celebrity plays tricks, or pulls pranks, on other celebrities while covertly filming the scene unbeknownst to the target. If not, you are surely missing out on some of the best stealthily created schemes that almost always results in the target becoming infuriated to the point where we see them lose their shit! The entire concept is quite hilarious and very entertaining, as long as you’re not the one being punk’d!
Now imagine being talked into attending a Bridal Fair (which was an experience in itself), where you and your BFF both enter and “win” a drawing for $500 towards services from a skin clinic to fix problematic areas on your body that you’ve been either self-conscious or insecure about. Keep in mind that on the drawing slip there were multiple boxes to check mark areas of concern – in which my BFF decided to check mark ALL THE BOXES for me and even included smiley faces for good measure! HA! The real story here is that yes, we each received a phone call that we BOTH won…fishy, right? I thought so, too.
Scene I – Operation Get Your Shit Together
If you’ve been following my blogs, you’d notice that life likes to throw me curve balls and things never come easy – not even winning a GD contest! FML! So, another adventure begins!
Since it’s safer in numbers, the BFF and I conveniently planned our skin clinic consultations to occur at the same time and upon our Saturday arrival, of course the doors were locked. After giving each other the annoyed side-eye glance we then peered through the first set of glass double doors and could see that the clinic shared a space with a bank. We panned our eyes towards the second set of double doors, and saw the receptionist’s head bobbing up and down while chatting with a casually dressed man.
After frantically waiving our arms like those fucking wacky waving inflatable flailing tube guys you see at auto dealerships, we were still unable to grab their attention. We gave up and then turned to the intercom and pressed the “call” button a thousand times while simultaneously checking the receptionist’s reaction – none. Much bullshit, it didn’t even work! WTF!
Beyond irritated, we focused our attention on the casually dressed man hogging the receptionist’s attention and noticed that he was wearing a brown, retro track jacket that looked like something out of a 1970’s porn. His thin, creepy mustache combined with his tousled, greasy hair was enough to make me feel like I needed to take another shower. <Instant shudder>
We both gave each other the look of, “Seriously, who’s running this shitshow? Should we be worried?” After about ten more minutes of exasperated wacky wavy flailing arm attempts to snag their attention, the porn star finally sees us and hurries over to open the locked doors. He apologizes as he walks us towards their office which was full of disarray and chaos; he states that the company is in mid-move to their new location in which should be completed by Monday. GREEEAAAAATTTTTT! So why the fuck are you open at a time like this with locked doors, intercom buttons broken, porn star outfits with fucking creepy staches? UGH!
Anyway, the head bobbing receptionist also apologized for the mess and proceeded to lead us back into the maze of boxes and movers towards the back stairs to head to the second level. At the end of the deserted hall we spot a second receptionist that looked hung-over as fuck and bored out of her mind. We continued to take in the scenery of the makeshift, barren office with a printer on the floor, papers astray, missing lobby chairs and zero furniture, we weren’t offered a seat or water – as they had neither. However, we WERE offered a clipboard to fill out while standing up, cuz you know, zero furniture and all.
A sunny sales person finally emerged from behind a closed office door and warmly welcomed us to the messy clinic. We finished completing our paperwork and handed her our clipboards. She then guided us to an office that actually DID have chairs and a table to sit down at.
At this point we were both so taken back with the fucking hotmess, janky atmosphere, unprofessional and unmotivated staff that we were convinced that we were now being punk’d and that someone was suddenly going to burst through the doors and say, ”HA! This isn’t a skin clinic; you’re on a reality show!” But of course that didn’t happen.
Scene II – Buying All the Things
The next 1.5 hours were filled with well-placed sales pitches addressing our problem areas that we had check marked on our drawing slip. How convenient and cruel at the same time! Needless to say, after reviewing all of our service options, seeing countless before and after photos on many different procedures, and number crunching costs like maniacs – we each walked away with a few services under our belt and a lot poorer. I could literally feel my credit score plummeting and my blood pressure rising! <Insert face palm>
Instant buyer’s remorse was almost immediate for me and had me sick to my stomach due to the anxiety of coming clean to my SO with my newly signed contract itemizing my procedures that totaled more than my first car. FUCK! Thankfully he understood, or at least he says so. -_-
Scene III – Procedure Experience
Since our consult was done together, we decided to continue our BFF bond and schedule our appointments for the same date/time as well! Makes sense, right?! We arrived at the new location/building and of course their business wasn’t noted on the building’s directory. Here we go again! Maybe this was the day we actually get punk’d; 5 days after we signed our life away on all the paperwork committing to all the services and all the procedures.
Turns out that they were a legit business and we walked into a beautiful lobby area with not one 1 but 2 receptionists who lacked the personable greeting skills that one would expect from company that has a customer service based model of operation. Business 101, your customers are your bread and butter, greet and treat every one of them walking through the door as if they were your number one client. Where the fuck is my red carpet? Where’s my glass of Dom – let’s pop champagne here people!
We were then escorted down the hall to a second waiting room with dimmed lights – we assumed that this was necessary to ease anxiety before getting your body parts Lazered (<– this spelling is fun!). What do ya know, its clipboard time again! We felt so spoiled with brand new chairs to sit down in, cold flowing water or coffee, and most of our answers were ‘NA’. Done and done!
After a few minutes our nurses retrieved us and took us to our separate rooms where we each were given instructions and information. Come to find out, we each received different instructions – or lack thereof. I ended up with a very soothing nurse that gave me clear instructions on what we were doing as well as answered all of my questions and made my experience very comforting. Let me rephrase that, as comforting as one could be with having a heated instrument attach to your armpit with a suction/pinching feeling and then repeated pain about 8 times per armpit. Also, never mind the burning hair smell and discomfort that literally made me sweat to the point where my goggles fogged up. HA! My eyeballs were evening burning! Fuck! Just kidding, not really but the fogging needed explanation.
Next up on deck to Lazer were my southern regions. Yes, your assumption was correct. My vagina was also definitely getting the hairless cure. No more razors, razor burn, shaving, itchy crotch or waxing for me! Ever! This time the heat was turned waaaaaaaaay down on the instrument. Thank god! The suction/pinching feeling was more intense but closely followed with a cool down which didn’t make it any better than the armpits. Little did I know that I was very ticklish in the groin region and in turn I had to fully concentrate on not snapping the nurse’s neck with my Venus thigh traps! She could have died!
I was slightly embarrassed for nervously sweating and my nurse assured me with, “Oh honey, I am all about the sweat and the vaginas in this business as I’ve seen it all!” HA!! Apparently she also performs a sweat removal procedure. Well, tickle me pink! (Vagina joke, ha!). I felt like I just won the lotto with this lady!
My Lazering treatment was completed well under 20 minutes and I even had to wait for the BFF to come out of her room for what it seemed like a long time. Come to find out, she was on a totally different machine that required a messy gel and her nurse was less than personable (wonder if she is backup receptionist #3). She didn’t pull out all the stops to sooth my friend and kept making small talk while the painful Lazering was happening.
Her nurse: “Are you married?”
Friend: “No. Ouch!
Her nurse: “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Friend: “NO…ouch, ouch!”
Her nurse: “Do you have a house?”
Friend: “No. (Please shut the fuck up!)
Her nurse: “Do you have a pet?”
Friend: “OUCH! No.”
Her nurse: “Well, I have cats…blah blah blah”
- Always request MY nurse
- Request the Lumi machine (no gel)
- Get a second job to pay for all the skin services
Next up, my face treatment. Pretty sure I am not looking forward to having my face melt off.