"You're Going to Need to Be Quiet."

Friday, May 29, 2009
7:56 pm Oh no, she didn't...

My name is Tara, and I am a victim of ageism. Now, I understand that the term "ageism" is usually used to refer to discriminatory practices against the elderly, but in this case I'm using it to describe discriminatory practices against the young and the beautiful - namely, me.

Today, I took Kaitlyn to get her eyebrows waxed before tomorrow's Senior Ball. Since I've been home, Mom has designated me Kaitlyn's personal assistant/chauffeur, and I take my duties very seriously, when I'm not complaining about them. My chauffeuring duties mostly include escorting Kaitlyn to and from school, the Academy, and her various other rehearsals/appointments. As her personal assistant, my most recent duty was to schedule Kaitlyn a brow waxing appointment at one of the spas in Glastonbury. Usually, we go to Elizabeth Grady (they know us there), but they're out of business until June, when they're reopening under new management. Confusing, I know.

So, I spent hours scouring the Internet for a new spa that would be to Kaitlyn's liking. Finally, I settled on one. If you really want to know which spa, I'll tell you, but I'm going to write some not-very-nice things about them because they did a terrible job. Email me for details.

Anyway, where was I? Aaah, yes, ageism and brow waxing. So, I bring Kaitlyn in for her 1:15 pm appointment, and it's your typical spa - fake candles glowing in corners, Enya wailing in the background. While we're in the waiting area trying not to choke on incense, I ask Kaitlyn if she wants me to go into the room with her while they do the waxing. Typically, she likes me to go in there with her because I'll tell them if they need to fix something, whereas she would sit and smile politely while they waxed off an entire eyebrow. She says yes.

Waxer lady comes out and greets Kaitlyn with a flowy wave of her hand. We stand up to follow her into the room, and as we're walking I ask, "Is it alright if I go in with her?"

Waxer lady turns, looks at me, and says, "Yes. But you're going to need to be quiet."

EXCUSE ME??? Did you seriously just tell me to be quiet? Bitch, please.

This bothers me for two reasons:

1.) If I were Kaitlyn's mother, she would never in a million years have told me to be quiet. She only said that because I'm 22 (and look 18).

2.) Secondly, I'M PAYING YOU. Want to know why you got like, no tip? BECAUSE YOU TOLD A CUSTOMER TO BE QUIET. I'm sorry I missed the "Whisper Zone" plaque on the wall, but I was asking you a question. I didn't jump up and down and bang on the walls and yell and scream. I WAS TRYING TO BE POLITE BY ASKING YOU IF I COULD COME IN, AS IF IT WERE REALLY UP TO YOU.

So, Kaitlyn went on with her brow waxing, and I stood (quietly) in the corner of the room. When she was done, Kaitlyn held up the mirror to look at herself, and then looked at me for my approval.

I came over, examined them, and told the waxer lady that she needed to go back and trim them.

And I didn't say it quietly.

Love,
Tara

Listening to: "It's the End of the World As We Know It" by R.E.M.