America loves the hairless. Hair removal has taken the place of the manicure as a status symbol and has made its way onto many a Dallas woman's schedule. We think it might be a touch excessive and masochistic to use an Epilady, and Nad's has been road-tested by several staffers here, and we got no satisfaction. So we turn to the experts, Ms. Hunter in particular, for a considerably more pleasant hair-removal experience. She uses the latest technology (IPL Photo Rejuvenation), makes you feel comfortable (even when you're not so clothed) and has catlike swiftness. She also does more than hair removal, offering microdermabrasion, facials and anti-aging skin care. Hairless, wrinkle-free and spic-n-span pores sound fine to us; at least the nonsurgical methods won't make your ears meet in the long run.
We would never, ever pick a best head shop. Drugs are bad, m'kay? What we come here for are the plentiful gag T-shirts, the comic bumper stickers, the incense. Not that we ever have a call to burn incense. What? You say they have water pipes, too? Hmmm. We thought all those fancy, colored glass sculptures were lamps. Sure are purty. Might have to pick up one of those some day.
Unfortunately, there remains an assumption, in this world struggling toward equality for all, that the ladies aren't as schooled on the secret world beneath the hood of an automobile. Sometimes, a mechanic here and there will try to finagle an unnecessary repair or two based on such assumptions. We believe such practices are a crock. The Zuhdi folk are all about our desire for fair car repairs and estimates, too. They don't mess around with tidbits and add-ons, they do the work in an incredibly timely manner and they are more than reasonable in price. We salute you, Zuhdi, for your nonprejudiced customer service and your quality of work for men and women alike.
Gorgeous terra-cotta pots from Italy and Greece, beautiful fired earth pots from Vietnam: Lemmon Avenue Pottery has always been a kind of mecca for the most discriminating potheads, potophiles, pot fans, or whatever you call them, in the entire Southwest.
This purveyor of chic duds and accessories for ladies and gents doesn't just dress an AARP associate in a vest and cap to mumble a "howdy" when you walk to the door. They follow up their greetings by asking if you might like a refreshing beverage to go with your shopping experience: a choice of Coke, Sprite or sparkling water in swift little bottles. We're waiting for them to discover those red Piper-Heidsieck minis. Champagne just makes hellos slide off the lips so much easier. It makes the shopping more dangerous, too.