I love Puppies Drew Grant's Blog

Marnie from Girls vs Cersai.

-If Errands Could Kill (Minivan Mom Mystery Series)

-The Cat Manual

-You Had Me At Halo

-21 Bacon Dessert Recipes That You’ll Wish You Would Have Tried Sooner

-The Celibate Mouse

-It Was Food vs Me….and I won

-MoonRush: An Action-Packed Near-Future Adventure

-BRAINRUSH II, The Enemy of My Enemy (Book 2) Note: Unclear if BRAINRUSH is sequel to MoonRush

-Loving Yourself Thin

I won a free laser hair removal treatment by putting my business card into a fishbowl at Equinox. The email said that I was the lucky recipient of one session for my upper lip or chin, neither of which are very hairy. What was Equinox trying to tell me?

But I have a life rule that says you should never pass up free stuff, which is why I was at a gym in the first place even though I hate physical exertion. The month-long pass had come courtesy of the swag bag at the HBO party for Girls. I do not think anyone on that show would go to Equinox. What was Lena Dunham trying to tell me? (Then again the bag also contained BANANAGRAMS, which is an awesome game that is basically Scrabble but without the board. It has yet to be referenced on the show either.)

I went to the front desk of the gym at Rockefeller Center, which is my favorite Equinox because they give you free workout clothes. They are drab and grey and make you look like a prisoner, but that is part of the appeal. Sometimes while changing I will lean over to the half-naked woman next to me and murmur, “Only 10 days till I’m busting outta here, I don’t care who I have to shiv. I’m going to be free.” Or in the middle of running on the elliptical I’ll just scream “ATTICA!”

I don’t even know what movie that’s from.

At the desk, a very pretty woman not named Jennifer introduced herself to me. I know she wasn’t named Jennifer, because later I called her Jennifer and she had to correct me. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe her name was Jennifer and I called her Veronica. Whatever, she lasered my face, I’ll call her what I like.

The door to the spa at Equinox is hidden somewhere in the locker room. You will never find it without the help of Alfred Molina in the beginning of Indiana Jones, but once inside, it is a cavern of wonder. Soft, ambient music piped while candles lit the otherwise dark hallway. We passed a series of rooms, all of which seemed to be massage parlors. Then Veronica/Jennifer opened the last door in the corridor, and ushered me into a replica of a dentist’s office, fluorescent lighting and all. The whole experience was very disconcerting, like passing from a locker room to a massage parlor into a dentist’s office, which was exactly what happened.

Veronica/Jennifer told me to lie down on the hospital-looking bed they had set up in the middle of the room. I sat down. “No, lie down, make yourself comfortable,” she insisted. I wanted to tell her that I was more comfortable sitting up than lying prone in what very well could double as a gynecologist’s office, but this was my first rodeo, so I did what I was told.

“Laser hair removal is a series of six treatments,” the spaseusse told me. “This first one is free, but you’ll need to come back five more times in order to fully get rid of the hair.”

“That’s how they get you,” I thought. What I said out loud was, “I don’t really have any hair on my lip.”

V-J frowned. “Yes, you do.” I obviously wasn’t making her job easier. “But don’t worry, this procedure is pretty painless. I just zap you with this big light…” Here, she held out what looked like one of those x-ray things at the dentists, “And then in four to six days, your hair follicles will burn up and fall out.”

I was under the impression that this was an instant-results kind of procedure. This sounded more like a small dose of radiation poisoning. It sounded like what happens in chemotherapy. I had an image of being in the shower, with clumps of my nonexistent upper lip hair wetly slapping against the drain while I cried.

“Okay,” I said. Like I mentioned earlier, I don’t really turn down free things, even if they are unescary and probably dangerous.

“Okay, just put these goggles on,” the lady told me. “And…shit, I forgot to ask…are you pregnant or taking medications?”

“What medications interfere with lasers?” I asked.

“You’d be surprised,” she said. She leaned over me. “Now, close your eyes during the flash.”

Flash. All the fillings in my teeth rattled. It kind of felt like someone tattooed my face.

“Yeah, people say it’s like getting a face tattoo,” V-J said nonchalantly. I wondered about those people: Were they speaking from experience? Was there a correlation between face tattoos and the desire to burn off all your body hair with selective photothermolysis.

After about three flashes, I was told I was all done. “Stay out of the sun,” Veronica or Jennifer advised me. “That are is going to be sensitive for awhile.”

“But it will still have hair there?” I asked.

“Yes, for several more days,” I was ushered out into the soothing hallway, and had to feel along the walls until I found the door back into the locker room.

When I finally looked into a mirror, there were some tiny red bumps all along the upper ridge of my lips. On the plus side though: no hair. And so far, none has fallen out in traumatically large fistfuls, though Wikipedia lists these delightful side-effects from my experience:
Change in skin pigment, burning the skin or discoloration of the skin, hypopigmentation (white spots), flare of acne, swelling around the hair follicle, scab formation, purpura, and infection.

I forgot to ask if they offered a teeth whitening service anywhere in the building, but I figure a coupon for more laser cosmetics will show up if I’m patient.