Today, like every Monday, I got my manicure at one of the multitude of Chinese/ Koren/Vietnamese /etc nail shops in the city. This one is right by me on 1st Avenue with a Grand Opening banner that has been up for as long as I can remember. It isn't very crowded but it is the cheapest place around at $8.50. I find that it doesn't matter if I spend $8 or $30, a manicure always last the same amount of time on my nails, five to seven days. This is fine, because by that time, I'm bored with the color anyway. My process of the manicure is always the same. I walk in without an appointment. If I make an appointment, I always am late or early or something, so walk in is what I do. If I have to wait, I walk down the street a few feet the the nearest salon even if I have to pay 50 cents more, and get my manicure there. I can repeat this until I hit a place, which has never actually taken me more than one try. I use the washroom, pick my color, which has lightened as I age, and open my book or magazine. If the person is good, the manicure takes about 20 minutes. If not, it takes 30. I have naturally long, strong nails. I don't need anything fancy, but the nails intimidate manicurists, especially the new manicurists. After the service, I sit for 20 minutes under the hand dryers waiting for my nails to dry before I head on out with my day. If I don't, they get all smudged and smeared. Therefore, it really doesn't pay to get them done if I don't have the time to let them dry.
While waiting for my nails to dry today, I got bored. I had finished my magazine and just didn't feel like starting another one. I decided to sit there and stare out the window overlooking 1st Avenue. It is a beautiful, cool day, the first of the season. I love summer, but this day is certainly making me think of a transition to fall. The salon had the doors open a few feet away from me enabling me to enjoy the cool breeze. I decided, for no particular reason, to check out New Yorkers shoes. We are such a "fashion" centric city, so I thought, why not. Maybe I can pick up a few tips. What I can tell you is that on a Monday afternoon, on 1st Avenue, New Yorkers follow function over form. There wasn't a fashionista in the bunch. Not a heal to be found, not even a kitten heal. Most people had on the most comfortable, ugly lace up street shoes they could find. There were a few flip flops, but not even nice ones -- more like shower shoes. I then noticed the sweetest looking puppy Husky. He was already getting big, but his beautiful coat was amazing. His shoes -- feet -- were immaculately clean. But more interestingly his steel blue eyes were fixed on something, something by the door of the salon. I followed his eyes to the big black rat that just entered the salon a few feet away from my feet!
Oh my GOD! An extreme case of the willies engulfed me. I couldn't even talk. I pointed and tried to speak with words that must have sounded like a foreign language to the manicurist.
"A .. a.. a mouse … black … rat … a ... I'm done. Sorry ... done!"
As the rat crawled along the wall deeper into the salon, I grabbed my stuff and ran as the manicurist yelled apologies at me down the street. For the first time in my memory, I didn't care that I wasn't even close to hitting my 20 minutes of drying time.
For all I know, the rat just needed a polish change, but I wasn't sticking around to find out.
So did you paid before you ran out of the place? :)
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