ithinkironyisSOfunny and I went to get a mani/pedi on Saturday. A relaxing afternoon activity. For some people. The salon was packed with over-pampered women, and the receptionist rushed to greet all who dared to enter with an overly gusty slash heavily accented derivative of hello. As we selected our polish colors, she seemed to loom over us, despite her diminutive height.
I lingered in debate at the shelves. Hot pink or neon pink?
The receptionist suffered from no such indecision - she assured me that hot pink was perfect for summer. No question about it. No, really. No questions. In retrospect, this innocent exchange would prove to be a solid chunk of foreshadow. Gross.
As we weaved our way toward our cozy recliners, she asked ithinkironyissofunny and I if we would like a shoulder massage along with our nail treatment. I said no, ithinkironyisSOfunnysaid yes. I laughed at ithinkironyisSOfunny's delivery. The receptionist took that as me saying yes. The second my a$$ hit the chair, Cindy was behind me, unzipping the top half of my dress, and going after my knots for a dollar a minute. I resigned myself to accept that I probably needed a massage anyway.
Enter the manicurist. She asked if I would like to trim my nails.
"You don’t want to cut, do you? No, I don’t think you do."
"Actually, I would - I like them short and round."
She made a face and put her head down to attack my cuticles. The pedicurist had trouble understanding my fast-paced, un-annunciated English, and I wasn’t faring any better on my end of the exchange. Manicurist helped to translate. Her derision was not lost in translation.
I had selected Flurry Up (Sephora by OPI) as a top-coat. Initially, I wanted the glitter only on the tips of my nails. Manicurist’s earlier face made an encore appearance as she explained this to the pedicurist. When it came time for the glitter application, I changed my mind and decided I wanted a full top-coat on my toes and just the tips on my nails. Manicurist shook her head.
"Full-coat is better. Not just tip."
Maybe she was right?
When the time came to pay, she had already run my credit card for the mani/pedi/massage, but there was no space to leave a tip. I sat drying my nails, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do, as the formerly-ever-present receptionist had somehow disappeared. At the same time, I kept making awkward eye-contact with an expressionless woman staring me down from across the drying stations. Anxiety. Twitch.
Eventually, Cindy came over to say thank you and I took that as my cue to hand over the probably slightly-less-than-sufficient cash I had harbored in my clutch.
Note to self: Next time you need a little relaxation in your life, remember these 5 letters…X-A-N-A-X.