With the Summer hightailing it out of dodge while EVERYTHING pumpkin is busting through the door I decided it was a perfect time for some much-needed pampering. A mani pedi does wonders for this girl.
Recently I switched up facilities that tend to my hooves. I was no longer feeling the love at Style Nails, so I started an affair with Cuticle Corner.
No fear people my feet are still snickered about in foreign languages as if they’re not even in the damn room. I really wish I knew how to say “maybe it’s your freakishly small hands that make my feet appear exceptionally large!” That seems like a lot of work, so I just let them gossip.
I must say I LOVE the way Geenie works her magic, however, like everything else good in this world there is a price. Mine is being told “RELAX” “Stop finger fighting me!” and my very favorite “I will charge you one dollar every time I tell you to relax.” Yes, I keep going back.
On Friday, I had an appointment for 3:00. I arrived at 2:40 with the intention of scanning the polish selection and catching up on the latest issue of People magazine. Unbeknownst to me, this is against the obvious secret code of nail salons.
First Geenie asks “why you come so early?” I innocently responded with the facts about color choice, which was not the correct answer. Next thing I know I’m being escorted to the pedicure chair of shame where “Helen” will now be doing my pedicure. Pedicure prison is a real thing at this salon.
Why I felt the need to explain to “Helen,” who could care less, that I just wanted to take my time choosing a color and read the People magazine is beyond me, but I did. Negative zero Ef’s were given by Helen who bitched in Spanish to her co-worker the entire time.
Once I was paroled over to the manicure station I was greeted by Geenie, where I sat relaxed in silence. It might have been the fear of being sent to solitary that kept me on my toes.
Just as Geenie was done, I asked if she had time to do my eyebrows. Because at this moment I had lost my mind.
I hopped up on the table, and without missing a beat, the crucifixion of my eyebrows began.
- Your brow wild.
- They so thick this will hurt.
- A slew of under the breath disgust.
What would an eyebrow crucifixion be without dragging other body parts into the mix? Pretty freaking awesome if you’re asking me!
Tony or Lisa?
Sadly the words “what about lip?” were uttered and I responded with a very optimistic yet clearly wrong “why? Do you think I need it?” If only I could go back in time.
- I make you look like woman again.
- This hurt bad, very bad.
- Welcome back to woman.
Conclusion: My friends and family are either too horrified to inform me that I missed my calling as a Tony Orlando impersonator or Geenie is a bitch.
Enjoy the ride!
Life With The Top Down 
how funny! I always sport a unibrow… as hard as I try not to… I blame my Irish ancestors… Have missed reading your words, you gave me a pause for a smile tonight, thank you! What color did you pick?
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Hahaha! Thank you Daf!
I nice shade of lavender
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sounds great!
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I love the term hooves. i saw Donner and Blitzen next to you, getting tips. My favorite is when they ask…what cula? GiGi, my lady, never can remember I bring my own. We all just blend I guess. Funny piece Top.
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Cloven Hooves to be exact. I usually bring my own, but for reasons unknown, I made the horrific decision to look at the damn culas!
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There’s a manicure place on every corner in Manhattan it seems, open 7 days a week. It’s amazing when you think of all those fingers and toes. …or cloven hooves rather.
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Starbucks & manicure places on every corner. What more do we need?
My station would have a No Cloven Hooves sign…lol
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Nothing like a good dose of brutal honesty…
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I did NOT look like a man!! … LOL
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Ha! No doubt, but those Asian ladies don’t seem to have a filter…
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I had a pedi twice. Both times by my non-Asian hair stylist. Ouch! She used sharp sand to debride my feet. Then charged me outrageously for it. I do my own now. I love my culas. On another note, why is it that the waiting rooms with the best magazines never run late? My dentist is always on time. Boogers!
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The pain would be a game changer for me.
You are right about good magazines and efficiently run offices….lol!
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Horrifyingly funny. 🙃😂
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Oh my! You have me scared now. My recent move will mean I have to find a new salon for my pedicures. The girl I really liked at the old salon had recently gone back to Vietnam so it was a good time to move anyway. Still, the fear is real.
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It was a “Geenie” (Djinn?) who declared “Grley!” while holding silver strands at the top of my head which, until that moment, I’d been oblivious to. Should have known, given that she clearly wasn’t born a platinum blond, but her disgust was so palpable I felt it too, and let her go for it. Walked out with a do so blond (matched hers) my husband didn’t recognize me from the back.
You nail, oops, capture, those moments when the desire to talk about oneself is so strong you can’t hold back. Why do we do this? Because (quoting from the click-bait I fell for this morning): “Neuroscientist Diana Tamir found that your brain gets more pleasure from you talking about yourself than it does from food or money.”
Thanks for the laugh!
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