The One With an Incident at the Nail Salon

One Saturday afternoon, I decided to get my nails done before getting ready for a date. I called ahead to make sure the salon could fit me in. I was assured that they could do my nails in about 20 minutes, which would be about 4:00.

I rushed to the salon and announced that I had an appointment at 4:00. A sweet Vietnamese man came over, inspected my nails, and ushered me into a chair, saying, "We be with you. Twenty minute."

(I need to stop right now and make it clear that I am NOT intending to make fun of the Vietnamese, although I am pretty sure they make fun of us quite often, especially when they hear something like, "Oh my heck!")

After 30 minutes, I got nervous and waved at the sweet Vietnamese man, let's call him Tony. Tony sang out, "Twenty minute!" I noticed five or six contented women getting pedicures and relaxing in big massage chairs. They all seemed to be staring at me, like it was somehow against the rules for me to talk to Tony.

After 3o more minutes, my nervousness changed to annoyance. "Um, Tony!" I said, with a little glance at the shocked-looking pedicure women. "I was told to come at 4:00 and it's 5:00." Tony said, "We busy. Saturday! Just a few more minute." I looked at the pedicure women again and it was clear that they were really hoping I would sit down and be quiet.

Something about those women gawking at me with disapproval suddenly got me mad. Those women obviously had all day long to sit around in massage chairs. None of THEM had to clean their house, or worry about dating. In fact, the only thing on their to-do list all day was apparently "get a pedicure and judge everyone."

You know when your neck gets all hot and you realize that you are just about to say things you shouldn't, but you can't stop? Yeah. So, here is pretty much what came out of me next, directed with fury at sweet Tony,

"NO! YOU EITHER TAKE APPOINMENTS, OR YOU DON'T! WHY DO YOU TELL PEOPLE TO COME HERE WHEN YOU CAN'T HONOR THE APPOINTMENT?! THIS IS BULLSH*T!"

The pedicure women were now in total shock, mouths open, and clearly a bit frightened. For some reason, that just made me angrier. I glared at them with complete hatred and begin formulating a verbal assault that would have gotten me kicked out of Centerville.

Tony came rushing over, clearly well-versed in damage control of crazy banshee clients.

"You see, today Saturday. We so busy. You come tomorrow? Sunday? We no busy Sunday. You come Noon tomorrow? First appointment. No wait. Sunday?"

He was pleading with me. He had the saddest eyes. He was so sweet. It wasn't his fault that Saturday was busy. I went to my car and started to cry. I was a terrible person. I didn't deserve to have Tony do my nails. I was going to have to find a new nail salon, and probably a new town to live in.

On Sunday, I skulked back to the salon, with a box of chocolates for Tony and a rehearsed apology. He wouldn't let me say anything, he just smiled and gestured at the empty salon. "See!? We no busy! Sunday! No busy! You. You come Sunday." I nodded. He continued, "Sunday no busy. You... always come Sunday. You Sunday Girl!" I was so happy. Tony had forgiven me! I was his Sunday Girl! It wasn't until later that day that I realized that I had been effectivey banned from the salon on Saturdays...