Thursday, September 20, 2012


So earlier this year, I went on a "do your own nails and save money" fad. While I totally believe in this, the last few months, I have been on a "you work hard and you are tired just go and get them done, it's ok" fad. I go in and out of these fads consistently.

Well I have several places I frequent. One of them is Tiffany Nails on Bowles and Broadway. It's next to a yogurt place which is dangerous for me. The last few times it was a little sketchy but you know how you sometimes forget that stuff and go there again and you are like, "oh yeah, now I remember why I don't go there." Well listen to my little story ladies and gents.

So last Wednesday, I walk in and I am SCREAMED at, "PICK YO KOOOOOOOOOLLLLAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I wanted to be like, whoa bitch. I didn't even say what I wanted. What if I was a choppy lesbian and didn't want polish? What if I lost my car keys and was coming in to ask to borrow the phone? HELL what is I wanted shallac? Even though I wanted a mani/pedi, I was just all, WTF.

So I sit down and of course was immediately annoyed and alarmed by the LENGTH of my manicurist's toenails. This happens a lot and is a big issue for me as you guys know so this probably should have been left out of my report but it was just not a good time for me to be staring at those fucking TALONS.

So I am sitting there, TRYING to enjoy my latest issue of whatever celebrity trash magazine I could find dated THIS YEAR and the lady says, "YOU NEE WAX AN SPECUL PEDIKUR". I was in a bit of a daze, trying to figure out what she was screaming at me...and looked at the price list. The "special" mani/pedi was $75.00. Keep in mind here that I just got one under two weeks ago, I wasn't at the Ritz Carlton, and really didn't even NEED it, I sometimes just go to RELAX and get my mind in another place. Fuck.

She's sitting here looking at my feet like they were from Jurassic Park and I totally got her game - she bullies and shames women into getting the expensive one. At this point, all the other women getting pedicures were now staring at my feet. I said, "Listen I understand what you are trying to sell me but please just give me the regular that I asked for, I don't even enjoy having the wax and as you can see, my feet are in tip top shape." 




(No way in hell I am letting this woman rip hair off my vagina. She would probably send me to the emergency room.)

"No, thank you."

She then eyed my purse. "WHERE YO HUZBAND? WAITUN OOUTSI?"

I stopped Facebooking and dead paned: "I don't have a husband."


"I don't have a boyfriend."


"I don't have kids."


(Really. How do I consistently find myself in these situations?)

At this point, I just stared at her. I quit responding and calmly stared at her like a wolf contemplating his plan of attack.

I even turned my head sideways like Michael Meyers. I think the music from the movie even started in the background.

I felt like that old guy - what's his name...he's famous for doing silent, non violent protests and wears robes. The Dali Lama or something? The Free Tibet guy? Well, whatever his name is, I felt like him because she quit pestering me after that. I left with a shitty manicure and pedicure and drowned my sorrows at the yogurt shop next door. It was an overall horrifying experience and I will never go back.

The GOOD news is, I went to a new place tonight I have never been. It's by the Sprouts on County Line. They brought me a bottle of water when I sat down, asked me NO questions, did a superb job, and even re-did my nails after I messed them up reaching for a truffle I have no business eating. It was lovely and I even told them what happened last Wednesday and that I will now be coming here and that I appreciated their customer service.

I suppose if this is my large complaint of the day, I am doing pretty flipping good. =]

Have a great rest of your week friends.


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