I’ve posted before about the nail shop I go to in a not so fabulous neighborhood. I travel from my comfy home in VA every two weeks to MD to get my treatments because of habit and also because they have thus far, done the best job on my nails and feet.
Yea so. That’s about to stop. I finally realized that unfortunately, I might be a little ..I don’t want to say bourgie because I really don’t identify with that. Maybe I’m just to…not ghetto enough…to frequent the establishment any longer. Yea thats it. My ghetto game is not up to par at ALL. Humph and to hell with it.
I’ve taken a lot from those folks over the years. I mean I’ve been offended and green with envy at the designer-like gear the nail technicians rock constantly. I’ve gotten agitated by the bad ass little kids constantly running around. I even turn a blind eye to the boosters who roam the aisle selling everything from tube socks to lacy underwear. I mean I take it, you know! I’ve just endured so much all in the name of the best french manicure I’ve personally ever had on fingers and toes. But this weekend, one of the most special boosters came into the door and I knew from the minute he stepped across the threshold- it would be a lifechanging moment. He just had that look of ” Bitches, Imma about to change your world”. I can’t explain it but I have a sense about these things. I didn’t know what to expect though. Who knew what he’d pull out of his black canvas bag. I do know that when he reached in, for a moment- my heart fluttered. Should I duck? What will happen? What he pulled out confirmed my earlier suspiscions. No,he didn’t have the latest bootleg Star Trek DVD to sell. Neither did he gave any of the most special bars of soap and deoderant sticks that are normally sold there- two for five dollars. Nope. Nothing as practical as that. This man was advertising and offering at super low discount rates, bottom dollar prices, best investment you ever made- PEPPER SPRAY, get it now only two left. Pepper spray. I may not be all of it, but I really honestly am sitting there thinking, God please don’t let anyone I know see me up in here today. Please and I promise. To make things worse, as I’m wriggling my toes trying to get Ms A’s attention so she can get to the corns asap so I can get my fancy ass up out of there, the fabulous young thing next to me, in all her self applied down to there weaved glory,yells out, to noone in particular, as though someone were paying her ass for advertising- ” Yea, that stuff works cause that one time the cops sprayed it on me….”. I’m sorry that I can’t tell you what the end results of the said WTF-are-u-talking-about incident were, because at that point I started singing out loud to myself so as to drown her out. Amidst all that foolery, I’m sure I ended up looking like the crazy one. I’m special like that. Get there.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get around to getting my nails done that day. I am saddened that I am forced to end such a long relationship with the proprietors of the establishment but I really don’t think I belong there anymore. After I paid for their services, I stepped back to take in the salon one final time. A smiling Ms A waved to me, telling me that she’ll see me next time and to bring my daughter with me. I shook my head slowly and backed out the door.
No Ms A, you will not and I shall not. Now I will end up paying more I’m sure at a new nail salon, and change my whole routine- but what choice do I have? A beetch whose been pepper sprayed just might be a beetch who’d cut ya, and honey, a beetch like that does NOT need to be sitting next to me, while I’m immobile with my feet stuck in the water. No ma’am and good day.
I knew that booster would change the game.
I told you.