"Are those yours?" - I paid for them. They're mine now!

I went to the spa on the day before I took my vacation a month ago. On the way out, I saw a little ad they have for eyelash extension and my curiosity got the best of me.  I asked if they could do it for me.  “Do you want the $95 or the $50?” 

-What is the difference between them?   The Vietnamese spa owner spoke at length while I nodded and agreed.  The truth is that I did not understand any thing she said.  I think that based upon what I was willing to pay, they can make me look like a show girl and the other will make me look like the emcee.

“Maria will do it for you,” she said.

I followed Maria and I told her, -Look, I do not want to look like Las Vegas.  I will pay the $50 for $5 worth of lashes, ok. Not too much, not too long.

“Yes, I will put short, don’t worry. $50 look $5.  I don't understand.”

-Just put less than 25 lashes on each eye.

She frowns, "Okay, $50 not put too much. Natural."

-Deal.

She put adhesive on my lower eyelids gently and then she  proceeded to perform surgery.  It felt like a combination of super glue, jalapeno pepper, and lemon juice being rubbed on my eyelid, with some escaping into my eye.  I felt like literally ripping off the darn things. I felt itchy like a group of fire ants were feasting on my whole body.  I kept scratching away the imaginary ants off my arms.  I wanted to strangle Maria.  I fantasized stabbing the bitch.  Instead, whenever I’d get a chance, I would shake my hands as though I was trying to get the ants off them and then I would start making weird noises.  Maria would stop and let me do my combination hyena-goat in agony sound and then she would go back into her sadistic lash extension job.

It took over half an hour of what seemed like eternity.  Maria handed me a mirror and I looked at my bloodshot eyes with lashes that extended from Los Angeles, California, to Washington, DC with a lay over in Atlanta, Georgia. I looked like Mary’s little lamb with my long upturned lashes.  It started to itch so I rubbed my right eye and one of the lashes fell. She said, “Oh, no don’t do that. I put it back.” I held the mirror  between my face and hers.  -No. Uh-uh.  No way. I don’t want it.  It is okay.  I will kill you if you touch me. Stop right there!

She smiled.  “Okay, if you careful, it last a month.”

-I am going to the beach. I am going to snorkel. Will this stay?”

“Oh, only a little bit water, ok? No too much water, ok? You need careful, ok?”

-Ok.  

I slept with my thick lashed lamb's eyes. I was pleased to see that nothing came off the next day.  If I can only hold off until the first formal dinner during the cruise, I will be okay.

Later in the day,  on our way to New York where we would stay the night and board our cruise ship the next day, my husband (HB) turned to me and said, “Wow, your eyelashes are amazing.  Did you start using Latisse again?”

“I did. Are they amazing or what?”  I lied and I touched my nose lightly to make sure it did not grow long.

“They are nice and long!”

If only he knew how miserable I felt  at that moment. But for the $50   and $15 tip I paid for these lashes the previous day,  I would have pulled them all off.  They were annoying.  They’re hampering my view. I felt like I was seeing the world through a layer of tulle petticoat that was starched stiff.    I could see their ends and my eyes looked so overly dramatic I  swear I felt like doing some damage on the floor with flamenco stomps and click my castanets at any moment. But at the same time, I kept checking them out when I go to the ladies’ room to make sure that they are still attached to my eyelid.  I was so much into my lie, I did not have the heart to admit to HB that I was vain enough to glue caterpillars on my eyes. Well, they felt that way.

Wow! My eyelashes survived two Broadway plays and meals in Manhattan. I started to feel quite  special. I cannot believe my good fortune of walking about the Big Apple with long awesome eyelashes like it was no one’s business.  I even started to take them for granted when I was not busy checking them out and gently touching them to make sure they have not flown into some wuthering heights!  We boarded the ship.  Two wonderful nights later, we arrived in Bermuda and my lash adventure started in earnest.

We went snorkeling the morning before the formals and I swear I must have freaked out the little fishes with my eyes magnified through my snorkel.  However, I am sure the anchovies were not as traumatized as much as  by the lashes of the young Russian wife with two kids from New Jersey.  She must have paid $200 for hers because those extensions looked like a shoe brush that was dipped in solid shoe polish, but this is not her story.  Oy vey! “How heavy was hers?  How could she even see through those?    

When we got back to the ship, the first thing I checked when HB went to take a shower was whether my lashes were still intact.  I felt something featherly traveling on my face, tickling me lightly only to realize that a few strands from the right eye were falling.  Uh-oh!   I turned on the magnifying mirror’s light and gently plucked some from the left and as I did so, HB came out of the shower.

“Why are you pulling your eyelashes?” “Wait, are those FAKE?”

I started laughing.  –Yes, you did not know?

“No they look natural, actually. Don’t pull them.”

-It is driving me crazy.

“Just let them fall naturally.”

I felt liberated being able to pull some strands but I had this weird feeling that I would end up without any left so I was thinking fast. Crap!  -Is there a pharmacy we can go to?

“Tomorrow. What do you need?”

-Nothing just wondering if I can buy some hair color to touch up my grey.  (Grey hair my foot!) Actually, I need to find me some mascara fast just in case.

“You have to wait until tomorrow.  Black and white photo sittings will be day after tomorrow.

-Okay,  I guess I can wait.

The way it went down that night was that I looked like I was suffering from some disorder where I pulled some of my lashes and left two on the left and 3.5 on the right. Is it better to be judged insane or shy?  Insane for pulling eyelashes, shy for averting eye contact.  Oh well... 

The next day, I bought some mascara at some exorbitant Bermuda price and that night, I applied it over and over again over my own puny lashes and whatever is left of Mary’s little lamb’s lashes.

The next day, I could only see one or two and three lash extensions attached on each eyelid.  The .5 that was on the right eye a night before went missing in action.  It was a moment of truth.  That night, I had some black and white photos taken. I was my true self once again—I felt totally weird without my awesome extensions.   I only wished it lasted a month so that I would have felt  right about pulling them on the 23^rd day versus the 3^rd!

I came back to the mainland promising I would never do it again but I was temporarily obsessed with them. I went back to Maria and she gave me a new set of 7 lashes on each eye. 

“Only seven each eye?  Is only $5 discount, pay $45, and maybe won’t be nice!”

-We never know, just work with me Maria.

She did her nasty job.  This time it only took her less than  fifteen minutes.  Less than a week later, the darn things were all gone.  Back to Maria.

-Maria, let’s do 15 each.

“Hmmm. Fifteen.  I think good. I think good for fifteen!”

-Let’s do it.

She does her dirty work.

- Oh my God Maria, when are you going to be done?  Enough already!

“Just a one minute – just relax. I do pretty for you.

When I came out, I was looking terrific.  The next day was a working day so I went to work all excited.  An assistant came in and did a double take.  “What mascara are you using? Are those yours?”

-I paid for them.  They're mine now! 

After lunch, at exactly 2pm, less than 24 hours after Maria did her ghastly job, I went to freshen up and when I looked up, I saw some dark insect crawling on my eye. I brushed it and out came a whole row of eyelash extensions.  Are you kidding me?  I just paid a lot of money for this the day before. I laughed so hard, I thought I would toot right there in front of the cleaning lady. 

“Que pasa?”

-No hay nada mas que las pestañitas, chica, se las postizas y mira se caeron todos!

“En serio? Jajajaja! Oh my God” says the Guatemalteca.

Enough of this foolishness, I said to myself.

That night, I unceremoniously rubbed Vitamin E on my eyelids and started pulling the rest of the beautiful plastic lashes on both eyes.  I emancipated my lashes.  I even allowed myself to roll my eyes at the reflection on the mirror.

Mee-hee-hee-hee, says the poor  little lamb back at me.