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marilyn nail polish

After putting it off for too long, I made an appointment to go to the Spa with the brightly-colored door. Winter blues and boots made me long for summer toes and a soothing pedicure. Rationing the remaining balance on my birthday gift card, I booked an appointment to be soothed, smoothed, and calluses removed.

The clientele is always different. Some people are friendly and talkative. Others close their eyes or play on their phones. Midweek, I was able to get an appointment at a convenient time. I settled in to my chair with a warm neck pillow, a glass of cucumber water, and a warm towel across my lap. All this was brought to me; no one treats me that good at home!

While warm paraffin softened my crocodile skin, a voice could be heard loudly around the Spa. “I have been to Miami. New York. L.A. Las Vegas. They always play music. This place is for Grandmas. Who doesn’t like music?”

Firstly, now that I am one, I think highly of Grandmas and have deep appreciation for the child who made me one three times over in 18 months. I think it is a great gig and hope to carry the title for a long time.

Secondly, a nice person is making a living cleaning your skin and cutting your cuticles. You could say “Please” and “Thank You.” You could have managed to keep your opinion to yourself for thirty minutes. But, no, you wanted e v e r y o n e to hear about your dissatisfaction. You complained so loudly that I could hear you in an adjacent room.

Thank you for showing how entitled, spoiled, overindulged, and irritating some people can be with no appreciation for anyone else. For me, going to the Spa was preceded by a grateful thanks to Mom and G-d for giving me a gift to be pampered. Did you enjoy your little hissy fit in front of the staff! You made the group of us there at the expensive Spa seem like bratty children who don’t appreciate what they have been given.

After listening to you rant for awhile, the technician gently told you to let your nails dry for a few minutes and she would be right back. Rather than let her quietly gather some strength, fresh air, or a bathroom break, you called out: “Can you get me a coffee with Sweet ‘n Low?” Not even a please. Oh, and by the way, she is not a waitress.

By all means, this mundane little Spa is simply too pedestrian for the likes of you who has had her nails clipped around the world. Please find some place that plays music. By all means, escape us Grandmas. Not everyone has such difficult first world problems as you. Some of us are just worried about how to keep our jobs and pay our bills. I would much rather see the world through my rose colored toenails than listen to you whine.

Thanks for Stopping By! It means more than you know.


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