White walls watch me as I wait for my name to be called.
Ladies sit at the counter answering calls and checking in
appointments. When things slow down they go back to giggling
and gossiping: "Did you see the scar across their face?"
An older woman in the corner glances my direction as
she also waits for her name to be called.
I observe the posters across the room,
showing before and after shots of previous women.
Could that possibly be me? So insecure
I can't help but want to be done with this
place designed to point out flaws.