So after little sleep last night (and the last week), probably due to the fact that my husband decided to open a window to let the breeze in despite the fact it is like 200 degrees in our upstairs master, I woke up annoyed and with pet peeves on my mind. Oh yes I am sure the fact that so much annoys me so very often will come as a great shock to you. My first pet peeve is Pedicures. We all need them so we don’t have nasty jacked up cave feet. But in order to do so you have to be subjected to the one hour of mockery and shit talking, only in Korean or Vietnamese or some other language so you can’t understand it or officially have the proof needed to confront them. Not to mention the fact that you are literally taking your life in to your own hands with the possibility of staph, fungus, etc and praying that they are the rare nail salon that actually adheres to licensing regulations and safety standards. But knowing it is unlikely because they could give a shit about your health and safety and anything more than making money….and fast. But let’s face it, we all know what they are saying when you get a Mani or Pedi. Okay we don’t know exactly what they are saying (unless you are fluent in Vietnamese or Korean), but we all know they are talking some serious shit, none of which is good.
So my daughter had a gymnastics class so I Googled a nail salon in the town of Loomis, near the gym. I called Loomis Nail Salon to set up an appointment for that day. Ring Ring. And then I hear “HERROO ROOMIS NAIR. YOU LIE MAKE APPOINTMENT FO MANI PEDI???” Huh? What the fuck? Which brings me to me next pet peeve and eternal burning question I want answers to. Why the hell does every Asian nail salon choose a salon name with the letter L in it when they cannot pronounce the letter L to save their life? Don’t they know how hilarious we Americans find this? It took everything in my being not to laugh my ass off as it is such the awesome classic stereotypical nail salon situation. And if you have not watched Anjelah Johnson’s Nail Salon on You Tube, then you must make sure to watch the video at the end of this post. But seriously, I will be forever baffled as to why every Asian Nail Salon must always choose a name with L in it when they can only pronounce the L as R? I have decided it is clearly another sign of God desperately trying to prove his presence to me.
I pulled up to the salon with about five minutes to spare so had my snack in the car. Hiding of course because the last thing you want is a tiny asian who does not understand weight issues to see a fat lady eating. HELL TO THE NO! My Grandpa married a Korean immigrant right after my Grandma died and I have had the pleasure of her fat insults at practically every family holiday or family gathering I have ever had to spend with her. So I walked in the back door of the salon and was startled with “Herro! You Debecca?” This startled me as I heard the voice without even seeing a person. I thought it was some Charlies Angels shit. Then I noticed the lady sitting behind the nail chair all Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon style, who was clearly the owner and even more likely the madame of the happy ending sucky sucky me love you long time after hours massage parlor. ME: “Umm actually it’s Rebecca.” MADAME: “Yeah Debecca! Dat what I say. I say Debecca. You sit down in chair and Rina give you Pedi.” Nothing like customer service. You might want to look up the definition woman. So I sit down in the Pedi Chair next to another fat lady who clearly gave less of a fuck than I in life or just had completely no shame as she had that massage chair on and cranked up to high speed, shamelessly bouncing and jiggling all her fat around including her three chins. Really woman? Turn that shit on low like I do so we do not all have to be subjected to your fat jiggling dance party. Yes I am fat but have enough sense and self dignity to keep that massage chair shit to a minimum and not choose the settings that looks lick Chunk doing the Truffle Shuffle on The Goonies. So I sit down but instead of any introductions she proceeds to talk in her native tongue to Jimmy who is performing the Pedi on the bowl of bouncing jello next to me. And why is it that every male Manicurist at a nail salon is ALWAYS named Jimmy? I must remember to look up the definition of this name. Perhaps it means hung like bull or something the total antithesis of these tiny girly male manicurist's complete lack of masculinity. So she talks her native smack for awhile as they both stare at my feet, even Jimmy. Yes that is the sure sign I am the butt of their jokes when Jimmy is looking at my feet almost as much as the ones he is working on. Yes it has been two years since my last pedi. And you wonder why you assholes? Because of exactly this right now. Yes I had an ingrown toenail and had the surgery and yes it is smaller that my right toe. And no I did not have it done to the right toe because the Vietnamese doctor jacked that up so badly that it became infected and I ended up in urgent care…..twice. And yeah come to think of it I think his name was Jimmy too. Fuck! So what! Who gives a shit! My feet are far from atrocious. Sure my feet look like dehydrated Flintstone feet and they could be cuter but with all the feet you rub on in a week, I am surely not noteworthy. I am paying you for a service so please just give me the pedicure, paint my damn toes and shut the fuck up and speak English already. You are in America for Christ sake! My favorite is in between the constant banter and mockery in a foreign language with her friend Jimmy, and after she feels me staring hatefulness right into the depths of her tiny soul, she stops and smiles that big fake $$$ grin at me and tries to make a few seconds of small talk in English. You know the classic I am going to say just a handful of words to you in English so you will think I am sincere and give me a tip. Manicurist: “So how you doing? My name Liiiiina (who I will give credit because she took some serious time to try and pronounce her L..at least in her name anyway). You come to this nair saron before? Where you rive at? You rive here in town? You rive in Roomis? You have chirdren” Which equates to how much money do you have and how big will my tip be? And then she notices my rather generously sized diamond ring and suddenly is much more interested in me. And no I am not racist so spare me the hate comments. One of my best friends is Asian-American and I have had a Latin lover or two back in the single days. I have friends from all colors of the rainbow. I just find talking in front of people in another language to be bullshit in any situation, and in any language, especially when I am paying for a service. Because let’s face it, there's only one reason you would need to speak another language (any of them) in front of those who do not speak it...so you can talk shit about them. And nothing screams “I don’t care and FUCK YOU” more than talking in another language with someone in front of people who do not speak that language. This is the whole reason I went two years between my last pedicure but finally gave in so I could wear flip-flops without shame. And to NOT become someone my friend Jami would post on Facebook about, rocking the flip-flops without summer feet and offending and disgusting the world. Yes Hiner, you are always in the back of my head when I don the flip-flops.
At this point I notice the giant mirror that we are both forced to see ourselves in while we get the pedi, then am even that much more perplexed as to why the sasquatch next to me insists on leaving her massage chair on high. Really woman? Jesus Christ! Then the salon Madame is done with her manicure and wanders over to the lady next to me with a little plastic box of nail decals. It was right before the 4th of July so she asks her “You want sparkry (sparkly) frag (flag) decal for nair?” The woman declines and says she just wants her usual flower painted on. Which is what I normally do too but I thought they were really cute and being a lover of my country was all down to rock the blingy flags on my toes for the 4th of July. Hell yeah! So I was fully ready to accept when she offered them to me. But instead she denied me and walked right past me and went back to her station and did not extend me the same courtesy? What the hell? What about my flags? Where are my flags woman? Do I not look patriotic enough to you? Do I look I am a Communist or something? What screams Patriotic more than a fat American? I was pissed but was certainly not going to pathetically beg for a cheesy flag decal. After that ultimate denial, whatever lame cartoon that had been playing on the wall TV had ended and then the Madame, much to my delight, put on The Hangover DVD. Seriously? Now you are talking bitch! A nail "saron" that plays one of my all time favorite R rated movies with swearing and offensive material for all to see and hear is definitely beyond awesome in my eyes. And the fact that the dorky conservative next to me was offended and horrified with this movie choice and what she was being subjected to, brought me utter joy and made everything I had just endured completely worth it. So I paid and hobbled out of there, completely high on acrylic nail fumes and feeling like a tweeker, trying not to mess up my Pedi (and likely looking handicapped or like I had a stick up my ass with this walk). I got in my car and was about to pull away. Then saw that "Rina" came outside just to see what kind of car I drive. Really Rina? Nothing even remotely stealth about it, just as blatant as blatant can be. You could practically see the dollar signs in her eyes as she discovered I drive a full size luxury S.U.V. Doh! Note to self: Choose a new nail salon next time around and be sure to park around the corner and hobble in like a poor person on my jacked up feet so they do not expect as big a tip from me.
And here is the video I mentioned. This is the price we women pay for vanity.
