Posts Tagged ‘privacy’

Pedi Wrecker

Tuesday, April 26th, 2016

I haven’t had a pedi in a lot of many months. I’ve put it off and put it off because I’m a cheapo tightwad and I like to stretch my every dollar. My toes have been wonky and average because of it. So, yesterday….. I woke up and decided that – that was the day that I would fork out the dough and rock a trip to the nail salon for a much needed pedicure.

Livin’ the life. That’s all I do.

I felt sure that a Monday before lunch would be an ideal time because….who the heck is out and about haunting the nail salons, right? Certainly not the throngs of babes who need sparkling toes for the weekend.

I be-bopped on in and sure enough the place was empty, except for one gal. One harmless little gal.

Mr. Jimmy got started on my gnarly old lady feet and all felt right with the world. I peeked at my phone and saw that it was 12:00 and that’s when I heard it, typing. The other gal getting her toes done was typing furiously on her laptop while sweet May was filing, rubbing and turning her into a hot pink-toed princess…..loud & hard typing. No big deal. I assumed she was some bigshot somebody trying to click a few things off her to-do list while enjoying a relaxing pedi.

Like me. Except, I don’t have any pending important life business to get done. I’m all free-willy. Or free-loader, however you want to look at it. I’m free, y’all. I live off the man. My man. He doesn’t mind.

The next thing I hear is the loudest talking, as if something very urgent was going down. Me, in my own little world assumed that it was May (the nail lady) chatting with the mad typist client lady. People talk. They communicate…..

You like da pink? Oh ya, dat preetty color!

pink t

The talking got louder and then it got more animated and before you know it, girlfriend was waving her arms and imitating out all her feelings right there in the pedi salon chair. Poor May. She was oddly uncomfortable but what could she do? She was just doing her job on a client that obviously had something very important to handle on the phone.

Except…..the phone call was a never-ending gab session that went on and on and on!

yak attack

Now, we’re probably 25 minutes into the process on my toes and she’s still wildly chatting away on her phone. You know that kind of phone chatting that you do when you’re sitting out on your back porch and you’re just really into it? That’s the kind of phone call she’s having.

LIKE SHE’S THE ONLY PERSON THERE AND NO ONE ELSE CAN HEAR A DANGED WORD! It’s a personal call. You talk, personal. You laugh, throw your head back….squeal out and you even open your eyes really wide and feel the conversation with your whole body.

This lady was into it.

The rest of us? Not so much. By now the audience has grown by two more lucky-to-get-their-toes-done ladies sitting on the same side as me. Normal ladies. One with a book by Pat Conroy (not that I was looking!) and the other with her tablet opened to a page in her book. They made small chatter about their grown kids and that was that…..both settled in and let the magic begin on their pretty little feet.

Still, motormouth is riding her unlimited minutes to the edge of eternity with all her ridiculousness while we’re all sitting there captive by her every word.

Do you think she notices everyone feeling beyond uncomfortable? Or that the very nice nail people are actually talking about her in their native tongue? NOPE. She just keeps on rattling away.

I cannot think of anything else by this point because Jimmy, my toe master is speed-painting my toes. This was absolutely the fastest pedi I’ve ever gotten in my whole life. He was rushing along trying to get me out of there (I believe because this lady was stressing him out!).

So, he hurries me over to the drying station and lo and behold, he brings Chatty Cathy to sit right directly behind me. SO HE CAN DO HER NAILS!!!

shestilltalking

……where she promptly turns her phone call to speakerphone (for the world to hear) because we were all wondering what the other person was saying on her phone call. N O T !

The moral of the story?

I have got to UP my prayer life. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t thinking anything Jesus-y in that nail salon. Matter of fact, I might be a skid-row gang-like follower of Christ because I wanted to do a white-trash throw-down right there in the middle of all Zionsville Indiana.

She will go down in history as the rudest PEDIWRECKER this side of Mississippi (that’s where she’s flying today). Go ahead, ask me how I know….