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Friday, January 07, 2005

Fear of Manicures - does that make me a freak?

I've had one, count it, one manicure in my life. It was the day before my wedding. Do the women that do these procedures have background checks? If they don't, they should be investigated thoroughly for criminal backgrounds, cruelty to animals, or any other violation of the law. This woman, AKA Atilla the Hunette, almost buffed through my nails into my flesh. When I would complain, she would purse her lips like my grandmother and roll her eyes.
Don't roll your eyes at me, I growl inside but remain completely still per her instruction.
And didn't God give us cuticles for a reason? Apparently Atilla didn't get that memo as she filleted the cuticles from each fingernail. Now my hands look like Whoopi Goldberg without eyebrows - you know, that naked and odd appearance.
I had chosen a simple color, Ashen Rose or something like that. Instead, Atilla slops a color only the background singers on the "Simply Irresistable" video would wear [reference 1980's music].
That's not what I wanted, I began.
She ignores me.
I don't want this color, I demand.
One heavy sigh, two head shakes, and she proceeds to pour something in the Acid family onto my fingers to remove the neon paint. Four curse words escaped from my mouth.
My, we have a potty mouth today, she chides.
Okay, that's it. I push the table away from me, grab my purse and head towards the door. My fingernails are unpainted and raw from the chemical spill.
Wait! She calls from the doorway. You didn't pay me.
What? Are you kidding me? I'm supposed to pay you for torturing me? I don't think so.
Long story short, my fingernails were finished by a professional elsewhere. It's been almost 10 years and I've never gotten another manicure. Some of my nightmares are filled with Atilla chasing me with yellow nail polish and a blow torch.

Does this make me less of a woman? I hope not because I will forfeit my membership if I have to endure another session like this. Confessions could be elicited with manicures like the one I had.


  • For the record, I have had only one pedicure as well. Much better ending, but with my foot issue, I don't know if I will go back. That's awfully intimate, a person touching my feet. Boobs, okay, but not my feet, man. That's way too close to home.

    By Blogger Tisha from Texas, at 7:19 PM  

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