Would you like to see the very worst manicure in the world?
There you go.
(OK, maybe not the very worst…but it’s pretty bad.)
On my way back from Miami, I had an hour to kill before my flight boarded, so I stopped into one of those 10-Minute Manicure places. You know, the places that theoretically exist in order to provide a service in a very specific timeframe so that harried travelers can make their flights?
Putting aside for a moment the fact that the manicure took so long that I legitimately almost missed my flight – like, they had given away my seat and I had to make the man who they had given it to very sad when I showed up at literally the last possible second – this was a very expensive little misadventure, because I decided to splurge and get a massage while I got my gel manicure. Which meant that I spent the duration of the manicure face-planted in a massage chair with a woman sort of patting my neck with one hand while having a very lively conversation on her phone, and did not notice that while I had requested black polish, what was actually being applied to my fingernails could more accurately be described as…
sparkle poop.
Seriously, those are the words that flash through my mind whenever I look at my fingertips. That’s seventy-five dollars (oh, I’m not joking) well-spent if I ever saw it.
