Two hairy caterpillars

I had a rather adventurous weekend. I did something I've never done before and, honestly, I'm not sure I want to do it again. My wanting to and needing to are more than just two different words.

Saturday I woke determined to stare down the flu threatening to take over my body and confine me to my bed for the weekend. Not on a weekend. I'm more than willing to surrender on a working day but weekends only happen for 2 days every five days.
My darling Fiancé (not sure I'm used to that word yet) had an appointment with Ben - the man who cuts his hair. I had a desire to shop. Little did I know what awaited me.

I've mastered the art of dodging a certain type of Salesperson. All over Edinburgh these people who wake with shiny, white-toothed smiles and think using the line 'Can I see you hands?' is going to work on me. In this swine-avian-dognammit-I-don't-need-to-cover-my-nose-when-I-sneeze-society why oh why would I willingly let you see and touch my hands? You are a stranger with strange hands and I don't talk to strangers.

Saturday my guard was down. The flu had weakened my natural instincts. I made eye contact. A fatal error. His name was Raul. His smile was perfect and the Spanish accent not half bad. I really do have a beautiful name. And my Fiancé (nope not used to it yet) really is a lucky man.
£40 later I now own a bit of the dead sea. And my hands are soft, soft, soft.

Admiring my soft, silky hands I wandered out into the mall and found myself being approached by another Colgate Smile. Before I can say lickety split (I've never said that but next time I might see if I can get it in) I'm sitting in a beautician's chair and preparing myself for Threading. This is an ancient Asian torture technique done using 3 pieces of thin, twisted pure cotton thread which is rolled over untidy hairlines, like my eyebrows on Saturday, plucking the hair out at follicle level. Apparently it isn't as painful as waxing. Apparently. My eyebrows do look good and no longer resemble two hairy caterpillars crawling above my eyelids.

I didn't even cry. I did bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming. When I opened my eyes I had drawn a crowd. Human beings have always been attracted to watching other human beings being tortured, haven't they? We don't want to watch but we still do. No-one came to save me. No-one pulled me from the chair and asked Colgate Smile if she'd gone mad. Nope, tens of women did seem amazed at my bravery. So fluttering my lashes beneath perfectly framed eyes and waving my satin hands I paid and went in search of my Fiancé (I'm getting better at this). With his new haircut, my soft hands and neat eyebrows, we were a striking pair.

Maybe I'll go back in 2 - 4 weeks. Maybe.