The Making of a Diva
Last week some very good friends, Dr. Bala and Anita, stayed with us for a few days. They were visiting Arizona for their son’s wedding. I can’t even describe how much fun we had. On Sunday, the Big Irishman arranged a golf game for the boys. Anita suggested that she and I should schedule massages. Because seeing my zippered body has a tendency to render massagers unable to massage, I opted for a facial. I had just noticed that very morning that I was looking a bit haggard. I felt like a facial was just “what the doctor ordered.”
We headed for the club at the appointed time and I was greeted by David who would be my facialer. (Or is it facialor?) We discussed my options. Did I want a Flowing Hot Lava Facial, or a Steaming Donkey Dung Facial. Perhaps Madame desires the Poking Prune Pit Fantasy or the Happy Helium Healing Hot Hand Extravaganza. After much discussion we agreed on the Pure Pumpkin Acid Regenerating Foaming Torture Facial with a foot massage thrown in. The pumpkin component is a salute to Autumn.
We ran into our first problem when I was instructed to go into the locker room, take off my clothes, and don a robe that an anorexic teenager couldn’t wrap around herself. I did as I was instructed, but I failed to understand why a facial required this extreme level of exposure. I kinda decided that David must be a mugger. I also decided not to fight him in order to avoid being seriously injured. I think I read in a magazine that not fighting is a good idea.
The first portion of my experience was termed “thorough cleansing.” Translated: the application of battery acid to my entire, face, neck and upper boobal area. The acid was then worked into my pores using tiny pieces of ground glass, which were rotated at the speed of light. As soon as the spurting blood was clotted, a paste of ground rhino rib was applied to prepare my skinless face for the pumpkin potion. While the rhino rib was working its magic, my feet were separated from my ankles, hooked up to electrodes, and repeatedly zapped until I wet my pants. David, the torture master, eventually turned off the current. I must say that my feet didn’t hurt after the procedure BECAUSE THE NERVE ENDINGS WERE SEVERED AND I FELT NOTHING AT ALL.
At last, the main event. The pumpkin paste was applied about 6 inches thick. I immediately felt a burning, searing pain that David said was simply “pore refinement.” After about 20 minutes, I decided that I really had no interest in being even more beautiful. I bolted from the room, with my ill-fitting robe flapping in the breeze. (to the accompaniment of shrieks and screams) On the way home I splurged and had my first Starbucks coffee.
The following is a public service announcement ….
This kitten was found in the alley behind Grump’s Grog and Grinders. If you are the owner,please contact the AZW. If you have any desire to add this cherubic pet to your family,
just let me know.
