Posts Tagged ‘Esthetician’

Back on Track

     I had previously mentioned how I was going through a drought, and then last week had two dates and then another last night.

     The date from last Friday was a result from my latest Speed Dating adventure.  Nothing really to report.  There was nothing bad about the date, nothing wrong with the guy, it just…wasn’t there.  No spark, no pizzazz, it just fell short.  I know a date is going down hill if as he’s talking I start envisioning who of my friends I’d like to set him up with.  Meaning, I like the guy, just not for me.

     Speaking of setting up, that takes me to last Thursday’s date.  As some of you are aware, my esthetician, Lulu, and I have a bond, could be partly because she has been all up in my lady business for years.  She has recently decided and taken it upon herself to try to set me up.  I’ll need to back up a little for this one.

     Several months ago, while laying on her table, she began yakking away about my singleness, dating, yada yada.  She began telling a story about setting someone up with someone’s brother and having the phone number.  She then picked up a tissue box and showed me a woman’s phone number written on the bottom.  I gathered she was setting this woman up.  As the story went on, in all her immigrant Vietnamese-ness, I realized, “Oh, she wants to set me up with that woman’s brother.”  The fact that he lives in San Fran and I’m in LA, didn’t seem to faze her.  When I left, Subtle-T was there for her appointment, and I asked her to find out if what I was listening to was correct.  Here’s the thing, Subtle-T is married, and therefore, does not receive these lectures.  They talk about food, and, as I later found out, me.

     Fast forward a bit and Subtle-T receives a phone call from Lulu with a phone number of a different guy.  Lulu had decided that it was up to Subtle-T to call, not me.  A few days later, Subtle-T received a voicemail from Lulu, and rather than call me, she called Suzie Q and told her about the message.  “I have another number.”  The two of them were finding this very amusing.

     I talked to one guy, kind of boring, didn’t really like him, and Lulu was crushed by this.  I found out later that he had just started talking to his ex-girlfriend again and took my call out of obligation.  Fine with me, I was doing the same thing.  I have been informed by Lulu that the man in San Fran has been contacted now.  I don’t know by whom, but I’m sure I’ll get an update on my next appointment.  During my last appointment, she decided to cut out the middle man and gave me the third guy’s phone number.  She insisted I text him, not call, because when you call and don’t know him, you have nothing to say.  The only things I knew about him is that he is Italian and goes there to get his back waxed.  Hey, the way I see it, he knows the problem and he’s taking care of it.  Lulu tends to go on about Italians being hairy and I was doubting she was painting a pretty picture of me, since she had told him I was Italian.  It was during one of those rants that I was about to chime in and she stopped me before I finished and said, “Oh, I tol’ him.  For an Italian, you not so hairy.”  Great.  So, I went home and texted him.  He replied back.

Client #3:  Hi Zia, yeah Lulu did mention your name.  I’m kind of embarrassed to admit I know Lulu, but that’s a different story.

Zia’s Thoughts:  Buddy, you’d be more embarrassed if you knew I knew why you know Lulu.  Nothing is sacred on that table.

Zia’s Text:  She makes herself known when she walks into a room.

Client #3:  I guess she also enjoys playing matchmaker, huh?  …So do you we should test Lulu’s skills and meet up for lunch sometime?

Zia’s Text:  I feel we have to go to lunch for our own safety if nothing else.  Don’t want to upset the woman who holds tweezers and hot wax.  I could walk out with one eyebrow next time.

Client #3:  I agree, let’s keep here happy for our sake.

     We met for lunch, and let me just say, he is a very pretty, pretty man.  Little thin for my taste, but good-looking.  Again, no spark, no flare, but no red flags either.  Just a nice guy that I’ll probably never see again.  Well, unless Lulu has other plans.

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Hey, what’s your sign?

     Facebook guy asked to meet me a few Fridays ago.  First Friday things came up so he canceled.  The following Friday was the reschedule date.  That Friday came and went.  No phone call, email, or text with any details for the meet or cancelation.  This week he had the audacity to IM me on Facebook and say that we keep missing each other.  I’m sorry, but I fail to see how this is a we situation.  He seems to be screwing up just fine without any assistance.  I quickly told him I had to go and haven’t heard from him since.  Needless to say, I called it quits on this guy too. 

     Between Sugardaddy and Facebook guy, that makes me 0-2 in the past few weeks.  And, since my online dating days are over, my well has dried up.  Time to find a new well, but where?

     So yesterday I paid a much needed visit to my esthetician for my usual threading and dose of nosy-Asian-woman wisdom.  As I was laying on the table, undoubtedly making the most attractive faces while having eye brow hairs yanked from my face, she chimed in on the Chinese New Year.  After asking me what year I was born she said, “Oh, you need a Tiger.” (Damn straight I do.)  Went on how this is the year of the Tiger and it will be a good year for me.  She said I needed to be with a Tiger and that Dogs are my best friends.  (…I believe that line is already taken, but if she wants it…)  

     Where does this delightful information leave me?  I guess I now have to bring back the classic, “what’s your sign,” but with an updated flair.  How do you think the guys will respond to me in a bar if I waltz up and ask, “What’s your inner animal?”

     Attention getter…or no?

Put Me in Coach

          Got a pep talk from my esthetician the other day.  I went in for my routine eye brow threading and side of little Asian woman wisdom.  I’m sure I’m not alone in my helpings of Vietnamese nosiness as to if you have a boyfriend, why not, and when are you getting married.  It seems to be a big concern of theirs if you’re single.

          I’m lucky enough to have an esthetician who is not only motherly but believes she’s cupid as well.  When she came to get me from the waiting area she did the normal catch up questions, asked me how I’m feeling, telling me I look tired and work too much.  As soon as we got to the her room she apparently had an epiphany.  With a gasp she said, “You should do match.com.  One of my clients did and now she’s married and has a rich husband.”

          “Oh,” I replied and then laid on the table, hoping this was the end of the topic but knowing her, I knew I was in for more. 

          She then, in her Vietnamese accent, told me about another client.  “She older, never married.  She found rich husband and so happy.  Match.com.”   She continued, “I have another client, she divorced.  Thought she never marry again, but she did.”  Oh wait, still more, “And my other client, she found rich husband and now she come here more.  That’s what you need.  You find rich husband, then you can come here more.  And relax, and get facial, and no worry.  Match.com, they did.”   You quickly learn, if you didn’t already know, that doctor/patient, lawyer/client confidentiality doesn’t hold water in the salon world.

          Meanwhile, she is working away at my threading.  For those of you who have never tried it before – hurts like hell but great results.  Anyway, as I’m making all these weird faces to hold the skin tight and reduce the pain she says, “You should do online dating.  I think many men will like you.  You young, pretty (not exactly at that moment, but she seemed to think so), you have business.  Don’t say you work a lot because then maybe guy lazy and he do nothing.”  She continued, “You should find rich husband then you can come here all day and we take care of you.”  So not only do I need to find a husband according to her, but now he has to be rich.

          The topic slowly simmered down and we moved on to some other topics.  At the end of my appointment I got up and was getting ready to leave when she said, “Remember, match.com.  When you go home, you do.” 

          Oh, if she only knew the mess I’ve already gotten myself into.