Had a manicure on Saturday. First one in years. It went okay except for two things--which, actually, when you think about it, is kind of a lot of things going not okay when all you're doing is sitting in a chair while someone else paints your nails pink.
First of all: the giant TV that was playing an infomercial for Plan Canada, which sponsors tired and hungry children around the world and is a very excellent thing and something that I personally support. That much said, it is still a horror to be paying the equivalent of two weeks' nourishment for a Ugandan family of five for the not-so-very-life-threatening service of cuticle removal--WHILE THE STARVING FAMILY GAZES WEAKLY AT YOU FROM A 50-INCH PLASMA SCREEN. I think I have been cured of manicures forever.
Second, half-way through the manicure, Queenie turns the light onto my face and says "You want me to take care of your brow too?" When I demurred, she looked at me incredulously. "You sure?" I was. Queenie again: "We do your brow, that lip and your chin. 20 dollars." THAT LIP? MY CHIN?
I went in looking for something pricessy and came out feeling like a selfish evil hairy troll--and, wait for it--a selfish evil hairy troll with "Your a Pisa Work" pink nails.