Free Facial

Wednesday May 24, 2006

4 comments

So a few days ago my friend Tracey sent me the following text message: “My friend Sharon is going to call you this week about a free facial. It’s awesome! Trace.”

Great, just what I wanted, some Mary Kay chick calling me and trying to sell me on a “free” and “awesome” facial.

The next day, at work, my cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Sharon. Your friend Tracey gave me your number. She thought you would like a free facial.”

“Okay,” I said, meaning, yes, I understand you and I heard what you just said. You are speaking English, and so am I. Isnt this thing called communication great?

Of course, she didnt get that at all. She interpreted my okay as “yes, I’d love a free facial. When can we do it?,” so, she asked, “how’s tomorrow evening? Ill come to your house. Say around 6:30?”

“Uh, I guess. I could be home by then.” Fuck, why am I saying this? Why did I say okay?

“Great.”

Great, well there’s no backing out now. I’m getting a facial tomorrow and I’m probably going to have to buy something. Thanks a lot Tracey.

The next day I left work early and stopped at Pavilions to pick up a few groceries. I’m pushing my cart down Aisle 7, headed for the Rice Pilaf, when my phone rings.

“Hi Amanda. It’s Sharon. I was wondering if I could come over a little earlier? I got done hear a little earlier than expected and I can be at your house at 6.”

“Uh, I’m not even home yet…”

Just then the store loudspeaker comes on. “Can I get a clean-up on aisle 12?”

Fuck. I was about to lie and say I’m in the car, stuck in traffic, and I won’t be home until about 6:20, but she probably heard that. Wait, why was I going to lie about being at the grocery store? It’s not like there is some “don’t buy soy milk for 3 hours before having a stranger put green colored oatmeal across your T-zone” rule. It was 5:40, I still had plenty of time to finish shopping drive home, carry my groceries up to my apartment and put them away before this stranger shows up to give me an “awesome” free facial.

“Uh, I’m at the grocery store. You should just come at 6:30.” I said sternly.

I didn’t mean to sound mean, but I was really starting to wish that she wasn’t coming over at all. Not that I ever really wanted her to come over in the first place. Howd I get into this mess? Why didnt I just say no? Why do I insist on putting myself in these situations just to spare the feelings of complete strangers..

I got home about 10 after 6 with plenty of time to make my bed, close any open drawers, find my vibrator and hide it, blah blah blah. As I’m considering whether I should light incense, the phone rings. She’s here.

Did I mention that I had really bad gas that day? I shouldnt have had chili for lunch but its just so good and I was in the mood for chili. Im farting like crazy, and its the really bad smelly kind.

I walk down stairs and wonder how I’ll recognize her. When I get to the gate, she’s standing next to one of those small suitcases with the rollers on it. The kind people who don’t pack as much as I do, carry on to planes for short trips.

I bring her to my apartment and she sets up her presentation, a series of 15 or so images in a three ring binder making a sort of look book. The first image is of the Herbalife building. The second is of Mark Hughes, the founder of Herbalife. Hes good looking and clean cut. I ask if he makes everyone in his company show people his picture. She laughs and neglects to mention that hes been dead for the past 6 years, a fact I didnt discover until I googled founder of Herbalife to remember his name.

She explains how Herbalife is testing a new line of skin care and wants to get feedback on its products so she is going to use 2 sets of products on the two different sides of my face. Okay, not exactly what I had in mind for my free facial but what am I going to do? Say, “hey, why dont you just use one set on all of my face, and Ill tell you how I like that? I left work early for this shit!” Turns out only the right side of my face is going to get a mask, the left side is just going to have a cleanser applied to it.

She needs a washcloth and I need to fart so I walk to my closet to get one and release my fart. Im hoping that it will stay in the closet but unfortunately the fart follows me back and I can totally smell it when I sit down which means she can totally smell it. She says nothing and I pretend it didnt happen. I justify the fart by telling myself that it is her punishment for making me have this stupid facial in the first place.

After she does each side of my face, explaining what each product is, she asks me to rate each product on a scale of 1 to 5. Honestly I dont know what a 5 for facial products is supposed to feel like. How are you supposed to tell if you like it based on one use? I mean should I be orgasming? Besides, I know shes going to ask me to buy something at the end so, with foresight, I give everything a 3 (satisfactory), (except for the lotion used on the left side of my face because its too heavy so I give it a 1, and the lotion she used on the right side of my face which I do sort of like the feeling of, if only in comparison to the other lotion, which I give a 4.)

Then she asks me to fill out a form giving her 10 phone numbers of friends who would love a free facial. Wait, are they getting the facial I was expecting or the half facial I got? Either way there is no way Im giving her 10 phone numbers. “Most of my friends are guys,” I tell her.

“Are they guys who like facials?,” she asks.

Uh, no.

She points to my cell phone. “Just go in your cell phone and get 10 numbers,” she says.

I have trouble finding someone in my cell phone I feel like calling to chat with while driving down the 101, Im not going to find 10 people I want to torture with a free facial. I mean the only person I can even think of is Tracey, the friend that signed me up for this thing, but obviously I cant give her number. I consider making up 10 fake numbers but then decide thats too mean, and what if shes really dumb and calls me and tells me that I wrote down the numbers all wrong and then I have to tell her that I gave her fake numbers, take a clue and never call me again!. Instead, I tell her that I dont feel comfortable giving out friends phone numbers without their permission. She asks if I want to call them first and then give her the numbers. No, Im not giving you any numbers, I tell her.

She opens up her suitcase, “well would you like to buy any of the products you tried to day? I suggest the Vitamin C lotion, you liked that.”

“Okay, how much is it?” I feel like I sort of have to buy something since I didnt give her the 100 phone numbers.

“25,” she says.

Twenty five dollars for that little bottle? Jesus.

“Fine,” I say. Not fine, I dont want to spend 25 dollars on some shit I dont even really want, but I cant say no. I justify my purchase with guilt by telling myself, well at least I didnt give her any numbers. The buck stops here sister. This is a dead end.

Sharon leaves and I go wash my face because it feels uneven. You shouldnt need to wash your face after a facial but one side felt clean and refreshed and the other side felt heavy and oily. Great facial, that was. Really awesome. Ill be sure to recommend it to all my MySpace friends. Does anyone want a free facial?