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Withstanding Torture, One Facial At A Time

I will tell you anything! Just stop extracting blackheads!

I will tell you anything! Just stop extracting blackheads!

Cajun Tomato’s NYC 100 is a periodic series chronicling my experiences and observations as a New Yorker. Today’s post No. 46 is titled “Withstanding Torture, One Facial At A Time”.

The needle jabbed points east, west, north, and south on my face like an explorer marking conquered lands on a map with thumbtacks. Each prick created a prolonged stinging sensation. The bridge of my nose served as the intersection of the most jarring pains, and verged on crumbling, or at least I thought.

Surely, the pinkie-sized Chinese woman standing behind me wielding the instrument of my present discomfort didn’t intend on jamming the needle through my skull. And yet, I fought the desire to wave my hands in surrender.

I squirmed and squirmed and squirmed some more, like a worm removed from its precious dirt. Each time I did so my “captor” retained her surgeon’s focus, intent on extracting as much from me as possible.

“Blackheads,” she mumbled.

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