A Strongly Worded Letter To The Manicurist Who Talks Shit In Front Of You

By Blackout Betch

There’s no better feeling than getting the fuck out of the office on a Friday afternoon and heading straight to the nail salon. When your nails started chipping on Wednesday you knew the rest of the week was going to suck in every single way.

That’s why you can’t wait to sit your ass in a chair at your favorite spot and become your hot AF weekend self again. This becomes difficult when you’re just trying to daydream about all the shots you’ll be pounding that night and the lady doing your nails will not STFU.

It begins with a seemingly innocent question asking you if you have a boyfriend or if you’re in college (bitch, I wish) but then when you respond she just nods and starts babbling in a variation of an Asian language to her co-workers.

Clearly no one ever taught manicurists manners because speaking in a different language in front of someone who is paying you and just trying to fucking chill after a long week of pretending to do work is downright rude. It’s not even just Mandarin/Vietnamese/whatever talk that’s annoying, but the little looks all nail ladies give you like they think they’re being coy and subtle, but you weren’t born yesterday and you’re a shit-talking expert so you know it when you see it.

Then there’s the attitude you get if you come in within the last hour of closing time. Yes, I know you close at 7, but have you tried getting out of New York on a Friday at 5? Not my fault I have a job to do. Sure, it might be pretending to look busy scrolling through an Excel spreadsheet, but if I’m not there to do that it disrupts the office dynamic. You’ll get a look when you ask for a manicure and pedicure and then whoever the unlucky one who has to do your nails is will sigh loudly from the second you sit down in the chair to when the 30 second back rub she gives you is over. 

We get it – manicurists are usually underpaid and probably would rather be doing something else than scrubbing dead skin of people’s feet, but that’s no excuse to talk shit so blatantly. At least go in the back somewhere and be discreet like the rest of us are when we do it.





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