For over 15 years, I have gotten my finger and toenails professionally cut and shaped.
(And yeah, there have been times afterwards when my eyes said to me, “You call this work professional?”)
Being a perfectionist, it was no easy feat (see what I did there?) to trust someone else to do as good a job with my nails as I did.
But I got tired of how much time it took me to do 10 fingernails and 10 toenails because everything had to be just so.
I figured, surely someone else could do it faster than I can.
And you know what? They could and did!
What could take me over an hour to do, these professionals could accomplish in 10 minutes, maybe 15 if they were feeling especially lazy.
The first nail salon I ever went to, was within walking distance from our apartment.
There I met sweet little Tammy who was of the Asian persuasion.
She was quiet and handled my long fingers and size 9 feet with grace.
I felt comfortable with her, and everyone else that worked there in the shop was nice too.
Tammy always did a good job, and I always gave her a nice tip.
Tammy was my go-to nail gal but there were times I did go to other nail salons out of convenience.
When I was studying Hebrew at the UofA during the Obama years, there was a nail salon close by that I would sometimes stop at.
This salon would charge me $8.00 to cut and file my finger and toenails.
Imagine that. Eight dollars!
One day I declared to my husband while he was reading in bed, that I wanted to start saving money.
I told him that I was going to start cutting my own fingernails again, and that I was enlisting him to cut my toenails.
He looked up from the book he was reading but said nothing.
I had the toenail clipper in my hand, and told him that I was ready for my first appointment with him.
He put his book down, and rolled over on his stomach, coming closer to the side of the bed where I was standing.
He held out his hand for the toenail clipper and I froze.
But knowing beggars can’t be choosers, with trembling hand, I hand him the clipper.
Still on his stomach, hovering over the bed now, he reaches down to my feet, and makes the first cut.
None of this feels right.
I brace myself and I look down at the first cut he’s made on my left big toenail.
How is it even possible that such an angle exists?
I’m mad and I tell him he’s fired!
He looks relieved, rolls back to his side of the bed, and picks up his book.
Around 14 years ago, Shawn and I moved, and I made the executive decision to find a nail salon that was closer to our new home.
I found one that was nice enough, the staff was nice enough, but I was never committed.
Meaning, I would get there and whoever was available, I would let do my nails.
This particular nail salon has been my go-to now for many years.
I go in, they cut and file all 20 nails.
Takes them around 10 minutes to do, and I hand them $20.00 and tell them to keep the change…
I think it was around three years ago, when I decided to go east, young man and get my nails done at the salon where Tammy worked.
I didn’t know if it still existed, or if Tammy still worked there.
When I saw that it was still open for business, I parked my car.
I felt the memories from another time and another place as I walked across the parking lot.
When I opened the salon’s door, there was Tammy sitting at her station beaming at me.
I was so happy so see her! I reminded her how we had moved, and that I have been going to a nail salon that was closer to our house.
I asked her how her son was doing. He was elementary age when I last saw him there at the shop.
She told me he was doing good and was in college now.
Time is amazing and it never really feels good when it slaps you in the face…..
This past Wednesday, I stopped to get my nails done at the one salon I’ve been going to now for many years.
When I reached for the door, it was locked, and I was surprised.
Did they change their hours?
I looked at the hours of operation posted on their door.
On Wednesday it says they’re open until 5p. It was around 4:20p.
I was so annoyed.
I would rather have them open at 0900 and say they close at 0930 because it’s too slow the rest of the day, than to have customers guessing whether they’ll be open for business when we get there.
I drove to another nail salon and was relieved that they were still open for business.
There was one other customer and three employees.
I told the gal doing my nails to cut them as short as possible with a round shape.
I innocently asked her what time they closed, and she told me, “We close at seven but sometimes we close earlier.”
In my head I yelled out, AAARGYLE!
As she was doing my fingernails, I told myself I should ask her how much it was going to cost but I didn’t.
She cut and filed my finger and toenails and when she was finished, I asked her if I gave her $20.00 and she could keep the change, if that would be enough.
She told me that it was $25.00.
I asked her if that included the tip and when she said no, I thought I was being taken advantage of.
I told her that I didn’t realize just cutting and filing my nails would cost that much.
Still thinking she was taking advantage of me, I asked her how much it would cost if I had wanted them painted too thinking that if it was around the same price then it should be less since she was not polishing my nails.
By now the other three gals in the shop were all ears, and one of the other employees piped up and said that if I wanted my nails painted too, that it would cost an additional $5.00.
I answered that I didn’t want my nails polished, that again, I was just surprised by how much it cost there for just a cut and a file.
Then the gal that had worked on my nails, explained that she was charging me $10.00 for my fingernails and $15.00 for my size 9s.
The three employees started talking excitedly in their language and this bothered me because I wondered what they were saying about me.
Then the customer at the other end of the shop called out, “It’s inflation!”
To which I replied back, “I didn’t vote for Biden!”
To which she very sweetly and with a smile on her face answered, “I didn’t ask.”
The devil in me wanted to tell her that she brought it up, but I knew I needed to be a Christian, so I just let her last response fall slowly to the floor with the rest of her nail shavings.
And so, I paid $25.00 using my debit card and gave the gal who worked on my nails a $5.00 tip.
I washed my hands, said thank you and goodbye.
Dusk had fallen when I walked out the door. A door I knew I would never open again.
Walking to my car I thought, where art thou, Tammy?
Looks like I’ll be making a phone call to see if the first nail salon I ever went to is still up and running.
I will ask what the going rate is these days for cutting and filing 20 nails.
Then I will ask if Tammy still works there and that if she’s still there, I’m willing to go the distance for her.
~missy salcido wead
2 responses to “A Nail-Biter”
Thanks, I think.
Thank you for reading!