today i went down for a quick pre-vegas underarm wax at my favorite waxer in town. no big thing, in and out, pretty cheap, except that i was wearing two shirts: one on top that is green and that i screen printed stars onto a couple years ago and one underneath that i bought at like urban outfitters or something, on sale of course, covered in bananas.
so the waxer is warming up to me. on my first visit she said, “you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?” and the second time she asked if i had a boyfriend and today she said, “cute shirt,” which is by far the best yet. well i was still wearing both shirts so i assumed she meant my top shirt and so i said, “thanks i made it.”
she doesn’t speak that great of english so i figured that was the end of it and i didn’t have to go into a long thing about printing but then halfway through the wax she hadn’t stopped marveling at the banana shirt saying, “that is really good. you can save money on making your own clothes like that,” and i realized she thought i meant that i had actually sewn the shirts i was wearing.
here is the mistake i made: i just nodded.
i figured, what the heck, in three minutes this wax will be over and i don’t want to embarrass her (or maybe me too) with some drawn out explanation. so i didn’t correct her. and by the end of my left armpit she was so excited about me and my career i just didn’t know what to say. i mean, she finally likes me! under false pretenses! before i could leave she drew a design for me on the butcher paper i had been laying on. see. she thinks i am a clothing designer. which makes me a liar.
the only solution, as far as i can see, is to become a clothing designer. does anyone have a sewing machine i can borrow? because i am going to need to get my legs waxed in a couple of weeks and at that point i don’t think i can go in there unless i am wearing something i made with my own hands.
she is a very good waxer. life is very difficult to negotiate with sometimes.