SFX: A beauty parlor, in the early 1960’s. Huge hood dryers hum, and the am/fm radio plays something bubble-gummy. 

JULIA:  

Marjorie, did you see this ad in the paper? With the “Before and After?” 

MARJORIE (loudly):  

One moment, Julia — my dryer’s still running.  

SFX: She switches off the hairdryer. 

MARJORIE:  

What, now — ? Oh, yes, I saw it in the Enquirer! Such a difference, don’t you think? 

JULIA:  

Well, she certainly looks happier on the right. 

MARJORIE:  

Such a transformation! She scarcely looks like the same woman!  

JULIA:  

Now, that you mention it, Marjorie — it’s not just the nose. The eyes, the lips, they all look– smoother, happier, more pleasing somehow. Maybe she’s not even the same woman! 

MARJORIE:  

I remember when surgery was for medical reasons. Now it’s every little nip and tuck you can think of!  

JULIA:  

Marjorie, it’s 1961! Think of all the amazing things they’re doing with plastics! Someday maybe we’ll all look like this. 

MARJORIE:  

Fundamentally, it’s a question of image and identity, Julia. Isn’t that essentially what Nietzsche postulates — that humans can never really know themselves? 

JULIA:  

Oh, please, Marjorie. That’s such a feminist read! I mean, is there even an essential nature? Maybe beauty–surface–is all we need to bother with! 

MARJORIE:  

You’re so deep, Julia. 

JULIA (Bothered by this):  

Am I? 

MARJORIE (Giving in a little):  

I’ve never been crazy about my nose. Tear that ad out for me, would ya? 

JULIA:  

I can’t. My nails are wet. 

MARJORIE:  

…Eh. 

SFX: The dryer clicks back on. Music and salon atmosphere fades.