You Work Today?

Sometime ago back when the economy was still good I went to get my nails done at the salon. I went to the nail salon close to my house that is run by some Asian women. Now I’ve gone there off and on for about four years and have always had a good experience. Since I consider this treatment a treat I didn’t get a mani-pedi often usually just before special occasions. I always tried to get the same girl, Daisy.









I arrived at the salon and found out that Daisy was booked and since I didn’t know any of the other nail techs I took my chances. I got a new girl. She looked very young and didn’t speak English very well. She greeted me and with a big smile and motioned me into the pedicure chair. Her name was Mary and she immediately got to work on my feet. She filled up the tub and stuck my feet in the warm water. She looked up at me and said “You work today?” I smiled and replied I was taking the day off. She gathered her implements around her and then said “you have boyfriend?” I told her yes and I was married to him. Trying to keep the small talk going I ask her where she was from and she says Cambodia. Then I ask her how long she had been here and she answered “Since about 8 o'clock”. I tried again “no how long in the US?” She answered “Not long” duh I couldn't tell. I decided conversation was going to be difficult to say the least so I sat and read my magazine while she was doing my pedicure. Then I smell this horrible smell. It is putrid. I looked around but didn't see anything that would make this offensive smell and went back to looking at the magazine. I smelled it again and thought it must be the magazine so I put it up to my nose and sniffed. I realize it wasn’t the magazine. I go back to reading when I smell it again. I crunched my nose and looked around the salon nothing unusual. I searched with my eyes for some sign of any deadly chemical reaction that would cause this smell. I saw nothing. I mean what I should have smelled was acetone and lacquer. This didn’t smell like either of those. It smelled dead or worse.






She led me over to the table after completing my pedicure. I sat down placed my hands on the table and we once again smiled an uncomfortable smile at one anther. She looked at the table next to us and spoke in her native language to her colleague and they both laugh. Now if you have never been in this situation, let me tell you it makes you a little paranoid. You wonder if they are talking about you. What is she saying to her fellow technician “did you see this dumb lady’s toenails? She could have climbed a tree like a sloth” to which her friend would reply “she looks like one too.”

She began to file my nails when the smell came back. Only this time I knew where it originated. This demure little Asian girl expelled the loudest flatulance I have ever heard. I thought it was going to bring the roof down and the green haze that permeated afterwards would peel paint. I don't know what she ate but they need to feed it to our soldiers and then just point their posteriors toward the enemy because I promise it would knock them OUT!

She acted as if nothing happened. She continued chattering with her friend and pushing back my cuticles. I was dying. I was gasping for fresh air. I was praying for someone to open the door, light a match heck crack open a rotten egg; anything to make it smell better. I held my breath until I was about to pass out and finally had to suck in as much of the putrid air as was necessary to remain conscious. Mary looked at me with her innocent face and said “So…you work today?”