Party Nails

*hands shown are not my own*

As I discussed in a recent blog, I lost one of my acrylic nails. So yesterday, after taking Alec to the doctor I decided to get it taken care of. Can't stand the unfinished feeling of a broken nail. Anyhow, after the doctor's visit, lunch at Subway and a little summer clothes shopping at Target, I went to a nail place in town to get the "job done". I usually go to a nail salon south of my house, but didn't want to make the trip all the way down there after being in Flint. I had been to this particular location on a regular basis a think of anywhere else in town to go.

Now, there was a downside. And by visiting there yesterday, it reminded me why I stopped going.

The place is STINKIN FILTHY! Ga-ross! Doesn't look like they've vacuumed under their stuff in decades. Finger nail clippings, acrylic dust and the fake fingernail tips they use are all under their tables. The tables themselves, which is where you sit and have your nails done at are disgusting. Nothing is ever wiped away. Crumbs from everything imaginable are laying all over. When I first sit down, the dude (the husband I believe of this husband-wife asian team) instructs me (not with actual language) by placing my fingertips into this small bowl of liquid that looks to be nail polish remover with debris sitting at the bottom of it. Used over and over for how long? Who in the heck knows. Ga-ross! He then proceeds with taking my polish off and speaking in his native language to the woman. At this point, I am hoping to get my nails done and get the heck outta there with no one remembering that I had been there before. Because that would mean questions.

After he finishes removing my nail polish, he moves back over to the french manicure table and finishes up the woman's nails that he was working on before me. Then the "wife" comes over to work on my nails. She is quiet and makes a little small talk while doing her work. She tells me that she REMEMBERS me, remembered my hometown location (but not my name) and "recognized my nails"! Dang it! She tells me that whomever is doing my nails (she asks where, of course) is not doing a good job and that I need to have her do my nails. She goes on to say that her customers are always happy with her work. Just what I didn't want to have happen.

Oh! All this while on the televion, via an old video tape, is ABBA singing "Dancing Queen" and all their beloved songs in concert! Special backstage and behind the scenes footage is also shown. I'm thinking, "of course". Halarious.

When time to go wash my hands, as I go to the sink in the back I glance around laughing inside. The pedicure area looks not so clean, but has a bucket with a bottle of bleach in it, for show I am assuming.

While she polishes my nails, she is still going on about her work versus other nail salons and such. Her husband is telling a new woman that he is working on, "oooooohhhh, we are giving you party nails....ha ha...." in a creepy sorta way. It comes back to me. I remember him doing my nails and saying "bingo nails....hahahahaha...we give you bingo nails...." What in the world are "bingo nails?"

My nails DID turn out nice for the most part. But I doubt I'll visit this little establishment again. But maybe the health department should.