Mani-festing Consequences

A couple of days ago, I was getting my nails done at a local salon. The women who work there are amazing, just three of them, so they time-manage as best they can. Most people just walk in, and most people know that if you do, you’ll probably have to wait. They’ll usually say something like, “Come back in [amount of time] and we’ll be ready for you.”

I had an appointment and still ended up waiting a little. No big deal, they were slammed.

While I was waiting, three people came in and got their names written down as next in line, along with two girls already waiting beside me. That’s five people behind me. 

I finally sit down to get my nails done. It’s just a simple manicure with no polish. One tech is busy doing pedicures for a couple, and another is just starting a full set. 

And then, a teenage girl walks in with her parents. She immediately sits herself down at a table without saying a word. Her parents go straight to the woman doing my nails and say, and I quote:

Parent: “Her flight leaves in five hours, and we have to leave in one hour to make it on time. Her nail just broke. Fix it.”

Rude. So, so rude. Not to mention: five people are ahead of her.

The nail tech tries to explain that, but the parents just talk over her. The techs briefly talk among themselves in their own language, then the woman doing my nails nods and says:

Nail Tech: “Okay. When I’m done with her, I’ll fix it.”

Cool, cool. So then I smiled and said:

Me: “Actually, can I get a dip manicure with nail art? Oh, and the deluxe spa package too?”

Suddenly, that hour flew by. The parents were fuming. The teenager was pouting. And by the time the hour was up, they’d all walked out, her nail still broken.

My nails? Flawless. 

I tipped extra.