All I wanted to do on Sunday was get a mani/pedi so my nails didn’t look so chipped and busted. Kicking back with a crinkled copy of Allure while Top 40 radio blares overhead is the closet thing modern women have to bliss. But instead of being a zen experience, my local nail salon was railroaded by a horribly rude woman causing drama. Rude Woman apparently needed to have ONLY non-scented lotion used on her skin. Yet, despite it apparently being so important, she didn’t bring any of her own along with her.
Instead, Rude Woman got really snotty with all the employees about whether their lotion was scented or non-scented; she repeatedly talked down to them about whether they had it and why they didn’t. The way Rude Woman was talking — loud, accusatory — seemed to imply these nail salon folks either didn’t understand a lick of English (not true) or were intentionally trying to ruin her day. Other customers and I kept making eye contact during her repeated rants, like, “Can you believe this woman?”
Look. I’m sympathetic to her frustration, sort of. A lot of nail salons will say anything to you to get you to use their services — my favorite is saying it will just be a five minute wait when it is really more like 20. But Rude Woman was just plain condescending. I was embarrassed for her. I was embarrassed for the employees.
So, Rude Woman, I hope you don’t read The Frisky. But just in case you do, I’ve penned a handy, dandy guide about how not to be awful at the nail salon. Keep reading »
I boldly venture into sexist territory. I move we take the “man” out of mani/pedi. Why? Because sitting next to someone of the opposite sex in my nail salon is different than sitting side-by-side with another woman. It just is.
I fully accept that some nice metrosexual may want his nails buffed or feet scrubbed ‘til they’re callus-free; nothing beats the feeling. I just wish he would take his good grooming business to the place where he gets a shave and a haircut. Keep reading »
In one of those US Weekly, she’s just like us moments, the paparazzi caught Sienna Miller in a NYC nail salon getting one of those ten dollars for ten minutes back massages. (There she is getting her rub down…) Now, honestly, when was the last time you ponied up for a massage. For me, I’m looking at a lonnngggg time ago, just over a year—and yep, it was one of those nail salon versions. And the last time I had a real massage, the kind where you get all naked and lie on the over-cushioned massage table was on a vacay about two years ago. But some people are just massage people—they would rather spend their money on an hour of peaceful rubdown than a new pair of shoes, say. (Hey, to each her own, I don’t judge! You get rid of that stress any which way you want, dolls.) So, tell me, wen was your last massage? Are you addicted to the nail salon rubdown, the real deal version or just make your boyfriend/husband work the knots out? Keep reading »