Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Groupon, the Cult

Why is it we consider things we’d never consider doing when we see Groupon has released a local deal on it? Just because one is getting a discount, should not mean one should do something stupid.

A few months back I received an email from Groupon with local deals. Most of the time I delete these emails. This particular day I was intrigued by the Featured Deal which was permanent make up. I always thought the concept was interesting. I get tired of looking like a tired raccoon by the end of my work day. “Permanent eye liner would be awesome!” was as far as my brain would take me with this concept, refusing to recognize how that would actually happen yet knowing (denying?) it meant tattooing of the eyelid. On a whim, I splurged $99 for permanent eyeliner. I rarely ever splurge on myself and thought this could be my one treat. I called, scheduled an appointment which was 2 1/2 months out, because of being so busy. (A good thing, right?) and put it on my calendar waiting anxiously for the day to arrive. The day came and I couldn’t wait for my appointment. I drove happily (duh) to my appointment, sat in the waiting area waiting on my name to be called, went back to the exam room, grinning from ear to ear “this is the best $99 ever spent”, listened to her schpill about precautions, post-care, blah blah blah, filled out a medical waiver (why do you need that?..... Duh), and then she grabbed a Qtip and wiped my eyelids with a cream.

Me- “What’s this for?”
Her – “Medicine to numb the lids”
Me – panic “Will I be able to open my eyes?”
Her – “Sure you can. This is to help alleviate the pain from the needle”
Me – “Needle!?”
And then it hit me. While I was 100% fully aware permanent makeup = cosmetic tattoo, denial had me in glory land of no longer running out of my $8.50 eye liner and looking less like Courtney Love on crack by 4pm.
Reality hit.
Me – playing it off – “Oh yeah, the needle….”
Her – “We need to let the medicine set for 15-20 minutes and then we’ll get started. This will take about an hour”.
Me – looking for an escape route. I really didn’t need that 99 bucks.
Her – sensing my stress level. “Are you ok?”
Me – still playing it off “of course. I can’t <gulp> wait.”

She left the room for a few minutes and I scrambled to figure out next steps. There was a 2nd floor window, but she quickly returned and my “window” of opportunity to leap to freedom was slammed in my face. I was all in at this point, accepting my fate. “I can do this. How bad could it be?” The minutes seemed like hours and it was finally time to take my position on the table. She showed me the piece of heavy artillery that would stab at my eyeball for the next hour. I wanted to pass out but I was already on my back, so that was out. She failed to mention that it sounded like a jackhammer, which I would quickly find out. Keep in mind I’m the girl who is completely freaked out by anything eyeball related. When my 15 year old got contacts, I sent him to his dads for 3 days until he learned to put them in himself. I don’t do eyeballs. Yet, here I laid on a bed, trusting some total stranger to poke a needle at my eyeballs for an hour all for vanity reasons. I was going to hell and I deserved it. As a matter of fact, THIS was my hell. She started the heavy artillery (granted it was not that big, but it may as well have been a chainsaw at my head at this point), and secured me in a headlock. Now my claustrophobia kicked in. Great. So now I am trapped AND there’s a needle AND it’s near my eyeball. Effin', Groupon. 30 seconds in she scolded me for blinking too much. Um, are you freaking kidding me? 3 minutes in, she was already mentioning that 10-15 percent of her clients have to come back for a 30 day follow up and I was going to have to be one of those people because I was blinking too much. Dude, let’s be clear, if I get out of this headlock with my vision intact, I am never casting a shadow over that doorstep again. 5 minutes in, she was sensing my complete terror and treating me like a 5 year old saying “Gooood girrrl” when I worked so hard not to blink. And don’t even get me started on the bottom lid. At least with the top I could keep my eyes closed. With the bottom, they had to be open, so I laid there watching in terror, blood pressure through the roof, squeezing a stress ball that she’d finally handed me after I’d clawed the sides of the table like Wolverine trying to escape from Sabretooth. 30 minutes in, she ended our session. She said it was because of the swelling. I think it’s because she was afraid I was going to have heart attack on her table. I am pretty sure I am the worst client she’s ever had and I honestly don’t give a $%&#. She needs to count her lucky stars I didn’t scream, I didn’t curse and I didn’t punch her lights out. Yes, I scheduled this appointment. Yes, I was well aware of permanent makeup. It isn’t my fault I was hoping fairies flew in, and sprinkled fairy dust and voila, dark gray eye liner appeared. I, obviously, avoided Google prior to my appointment.
I politely scheduled my follow up so I could get the hell out of there, knowing good and well I won’t be back. To top it off, the ink is temporary, fading within a year. You have to go back yearly to reapply. Then why do they call it PERMANENT makeup? I know why… because I’m permanently scarred for life. Moving forward I have all Groupon emails automatically sent to Junk Email so I won’t be tempted to do anything stupid for the sake of a good deal. As for my eyeliner, it looks alright, barely noticeable. For the hell I went through, I should look like Mila Kunis. Instead by 4pm, I still look like Courtney Love, but on a little less crack. Success!
Some lessons learned:
· Save the 99 bucks for more expensive, smudge proof eyeliner.

· Don’t schedule a tattoo procedure to your face a few weeks before your wedding day.

· Groupon is the devil

Just a typical day in the life of me; blood, sweat and CHEERS!


No comments:

Post a Comment