"Oh Josh, you look a fright. I heard what happened to you."He stared at the woman dryly, not recalling her name. He just stood there wondering why she had stopped him. She looked like someone familiar but he couldn't place the woman."It's me, Estelle," her eyes softened with a pitiful look. "Come with me," she took him by the hand.He looked at her blankly. He just wanted to go to mission for his soup."We've got to get you something to eat," she stated, leading him across Michigan Avenue to the underground parking. She managed to get him into her car and buckle him up. Josh sat there looking like a zombie. She knew she had lost him, but at least she could help. Estelle showed her pass as a member of the faculty at Roosevelt University then eased her way onto the street heading north. She glanced at him every chance she could and felt pity for him. She managed to escape the crowd for the night game the Cubs were playing by getting off Irving Park Road. She went down the side streets. " She took the photo withher camera phone and immediately uploaded it to my Facebook account,with the caption, "Off to get my wax done. Thanks to everybody for thesuggestions!!! XXOO!!" When are they expecting me?" Right now. Go."It was already 11:15. The lunch hour at Ira's would be in full swingwhen I walked up the stairs to the waxing salon. Indeed, there were acouple of catcalls as I walked up, but fewer than I had expected.I entered the salon, which had about 10 swivel chairs lining either sideof the big room. About half of those were already filled with womenhaving eyebrows waxed."You're Jerry Andrews, I gather. I'm Anya, and I'll be doing your wax.Come over here." She was in her 40s, Middle Eastern, with thick eyelinerof her own - with wings - and a disapproving look. She drew a privacycurtain around the table."Total body wax. You'll need to fill out this paperwork. That last sheetis an agreement to allow us to see your ... body parts. And I'll need yourdriver's license."I.
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