Goodbye, Laser Nazi.

I went in for my final laser hair removal treatment (five out of five). I have to say that the 120,000 won was well worth the pain. There is still a bit of hair growth, but I can probably get by without shaving my under arms for close to a month.

Just to recap, the first time around, the laser treatment was excruciating. I felt like James Bond in Casino Royale when he gets WHACKED! in the family jewels. Okay, kind of different, but my level of pain comes pretty close. The second time around the treatment was virtually pain free. The third time around, on the other hand, hurt like a witch (mostly because I wasn't expecting the pain). The fourth treatment was mildly painful, but bearable. This last treatment had a few tolerable moments of discomfort, but overall like a walk in the park.

Given that today was my last treatment, I thought the staff would send me off with a congratulatory "You did it, girl! Hope you enjoy your bare under arms. Have a nice life." Of course, the laser lady was as sour-faced as usual.

I had hoped to get the "doctor" (i.e., the guy in the white lab coat) because he seems more thorough. Unfortunately, I got my regular laser person, Lady with a Stick-Up-Her-Butt. You'd think that I'd be used to her surly demeanor by now, but I am petty and obsessive, so I refuse to let her stank attitude go over me without a good ol' blog rant.

Cyndi has also been on the receiving end of the staff's generally stinky attitude, so I had marked the lady as the Soup Nazi of laser hair removal. BUT THEN, as she was coating my under arms with the cold gel, I heard her say to the customer next to me in a surprisingly cheery voice, "Anyeonghaseyo?" Then, in a chit chatty tone she inquired about the little bump on the girl's nose. She even told the girl "Jal kaseyo." What the Frankenberries!?! I've been to the clinic five times, and she had yet to say anything more than "Lay down", "Arms up", and "The cream is cold."

Call me overly sensitive, but after the laser lady lasered my arms, without a word, she disappeared to the back room, and left the assistant to clean up my arms. When she was done, she didn't even say goodbye or an obligatory "Thanks for coming." I, in turn, left without a single kamsahamnida. I didn't even say goodbye to the desk lady. Yeah, that'll show them. I'm sure my chilly slight was felt by all at the Kangnam One Clinic.

To be honest, other than whimpering like a chump during the first treatment, I'm not sure what I did to rouse the grumpety grumpiness of the laser staff. Perhaps they've read my blog. If that's the case, all I have to say is, "Shame on you, Laser Lady. Shame on you."