So I was sitting with my tired feet being gurgled in the bubbling jets of a cheap vietnamese manicure shop pedicure chair when I look over to see some preppie chick giving the pedicure girl a hard time. She was apparently unhappy with the level of exfoliation her stupid tootsies had recieved. Fine. Well, first of all, you are paying for what is the equivalent of a happy meal in the scheme of the grand pedicure menu, bitch, so what do you want?
But beyond that ... Her tone was so disdainful and contemptuous, and the pedicure gal handled it so graciously ... Just looking at her sitting there at the feet of this ho-bag, massaging her callouses with the pumice stone one more time, trying to get it right, to make the girl happy, I was SHAKING in anger by the time the whole scene played out and the check was practically THROWN at the poor woman. SHAKING.
I mean, okay - you're unhappy with the services you received. You complain. Acceptable. Fine. But for fuck's sake you can speak to the woman like she's a HUMAN BEING, not your personal FOOT CARE SLAVE!
So, as she waltzed her moneyed, no-class ass out in a "you people are so pathetic" huff, I braced myself and sat up as straight in the chair as I could, and boomed at her as she went past:
"I'd like to know exactly why you think it's acceptable to speak to her so rudely!"
She was completely taken aback for a moment (as was everyone else in the salon, I guess, since they were all just staring at me, saucer-eyed, suspended in time and motion) and then just squinted her eyes at me, rolled them at her slack-jawed, fake-tanned friend, and they were gone.
If we'd been outside, and had been Jr. High, it woulda' been a throw-down, I swear to god!
M
But beyond that ... Her tone was so disdainful and contemptuous, and the pedicure gal handled it so graciously ... Just looking at her sitting there at the feet of this ho-bag, massaging her callouses with the pumice stone one more time, trying to get it right, to make the girl happy, I was SHAKING in anger by the time the whole scene played out and the check was practically THROWN at the poor woman. SHAKING.
I mean, okay - you're unhappy with the services you received. You complain. Acceptable. Fine. But for fuck's sake you can speak to the woman like she's a HUMAN BEING, not your personal FOOT CARE SLAVE!
So, as she waltzed her moneyed, no-class ass out in a "you people are so pathetic" huff, I braced myself and sat up as straight in the chair as I could, and boomed at her as she went past:
"I'd like to know exactly why you think it's acceptable to speak to her so rudely!"
She was completely taken aback for a moment (as was everyone else in the salon, I guess, since they were all just staring at me, saucer-eyed, suspended in time and motion) and then just squinted her eyes at me, rolled them at her slack-jawed, fake-tanned friend, and they were gone.
If we'd been outside, and had been Jr. High, it woulda' been a throw-down, I swear to god!
M
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I'll bet you will be the topic of many a cell phone conversation among your local humvee and perrier crowd.
You've made me proud:)
Thanks for visiting (and liking) my blog. I bookmarked yours too and hope to add you to my FAVOURITES list. :)
I've just been under academic quarantine. More when I'm freed from my captors, promise.
M