Since I've moved, I've picked up a pretty consistent habit of getting my nails done. As it stands, I'm good for about a bi-weekly mani/pedi visit. Yes, I realize how much of a girl this makes me sound and I realize every reader now thinks I'm a shallow piece of shit. Well, fucks, I don't watch TV. So this is my happy place like all you assholes that watch True Blood, Glee, Desperate Whorewives and the likes. Everyone has their guilty pleasure, so get off me.
The nail place I go to in Houston is ridiculous. You've got one lady on your feet, one on your hands, and in 27 minutes they give you quite possibly the best mani/pedi you've ever had. Like everything else in Houston, they are fast. There is this incredible sense of urgency in this city and three months later, I'm still trying to figure out what the G damn rush is. So the nail salon is basically a sweat shop/gang bang hybrid that is full of Asians and everyone is calling you 'honey.' The manicure/pedicure experience pans out and it is not enjoyable, not relaxing, and probably gives you more anxiety than your cubicle 40+ hours a week. The bonus is that it's hilariously cheap, $25 total, and they do a kick ass job. Needless to say, I endure.
Today I am going home to Oklahoma City and in an attempt to look put together and like my life is totally under control, in front of people I haven't seen in months, I decide to get a manicure and pedicure. It's funny how polished nails can make you feel empowered. I have this feeling that for some reason, you can look great and healthy and productive, but if you have jank ass feet and scraggly nails you're just not going to pull it off. Better safe than sorry.
This salon visit was just totally fucked from the start, and I should have known. I totally set myself up for this.
As per usual, I take an inconveniently long time to pick out my polish. So many choices. And this sends the nail ladies in a tizzy. They are rushing me and THAT IS NOT HELPING. Whatever, so I pick a color for my feet and hands and I hate them both already. Decision remorse.
So I sit down in the chair (which isn't comfortable or relaxing, aren't we defeating the purpose here? must. go. on.) and the lady is super friendly and asking me all kinds of questions, telling me I have great nails and overall I'm pretty much feeling like the cat's meow. And then,
"You have day off?"
"Yeah, I took the day off today."
"Ohhh dass nice. You have long weekend now."
"Yeah...well I'm going home this weekend."
<blink, blink>
"You home not here?"
"Oh, no my parents live in Oklahoma City."
Silently shaking her head. At this point, I have no idea what set this lady off. We were friends 45 seconds ago, shit was cool between us. Now I'm wondering if she's bipolar or there's something on my face.
Both wrong. For the next 20 minutes nail lady is lecturing me on how no girl should ever move out of her parents house unless she is married. You know how I said they were fast? Well this was the longest mani/pedi they have ever done because homegirl talked forever. Shockingly, her two daughters (26 and 29 years old) both still live at home and it's fantastic and they are beautiful. "The older is prettier than her sister, but I no tell her that." Well she tells me about all their special nights together when she goes up to their rooms and kisses them goodnight and hangs out until "11, maybe midnight," while the daughters "do on the laptops." Yes, I'm sure they adore this quality time at nearly 30 years old.
I guess she wanted to take a breath so as she's trying to work all this out in her head and find some kind of rationalization in my situation she starts asking me questions.
"So you live with you sista." She shakes her head as if reassuring herself that this was definitely the situation.
(I wasn't sure if this was a question or statement, I answered it anyway)
"No...I don't have a sister"
Silently shakes head. Speaks in Vietnamese to the girl filing my toenails.
Now she is visibly distressed with the situation. She says, with a total bullshit dramatic sigh that I don't appreciate, "you wok or what you do?"
"Yes, I work. My boyfriend lives down here too and he works for an oil and gas company. I work in advertising."
A light bulb goes off. Here it is. This was going to be her big opportunity. So she takes it and decides she'll attack boyfriend.
"You boyfriend go with you home?"
"Ooh, umm..no he's going up to where he went to school to go to a football game."
Speaks in Vietnamese to toe lady.
"This yo first time home?"
"No, not exactly. I moved in August, went home Labor Day weekend."
"Boyfriend go?"
"No."
"Ah, you parents no know him."
"Wait...no...umm, what? No, he knows my parents, they have met him. A lot actually. We've dated for awhile."
Speaks Vietnamese.
"So you go home now and go back fo Thanksgiving?" It's like she knows.
"Yes, exactly. BOYFRIEND IS COMING WITH ME." I felt like I had to defend him somehow, poor guy.
Speaks Vietnamese.
"OK, you pay now."
So I give her my credit card before she paints my nails and now I feel completely guilty like I've abandoned my whole family for selfish reasons. Luckily, I get to sit here and let my nails dry to really think about this. Let it soak in. I really just wanted a mani/pedi. I could have done without the guilt and serious questioning in my life decisions. Epically perplexed, but I know I can't quit this place.
What gives?
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