And They Say*Africans* Ain't Shit

I had the worst Asian Nail Shop experience ever, today.

My roommate and I went to her nail shop to get pedi's and mani's. Normally, I wear an overlay on my nails. Occasionally, I soak the acrylic off and have them either reapply the acrylic or I'll let my nails breathe all together. Well, today I decide to do the latter.

Anyone that knows me knows that I like things to be a certain way...my way. My money, my way. I let you know my expectations from the beginnning. If you agree to them or lead me to believe that you can handle them then I expect you to. If you fail...heads roll and I have no problem expressing my disappointment.

So, when I walk in the nail shop I tell them that I want someone experienced. I know me. I know that if my ish is done incorrectly I'm going to be pissed. They give me the song and dance about how my tech was experienced and has been working x # of years. Cool. I watched her like a hawk while she was give me the pedi. All was good. She was nice enough. My feet were smooth. The nail polish was applied evenly. So, I began to relax, chastising myself for being such a hard critic. Wrong move. Homegirl lost all her skills and cool points when it came time to doing my hands.

A red flag should have gone up when she didn't soak my nails while she was doing my feet. I let it go. My nails are rather long and I wanted to perserve some of the length. Now, I've been getting my nails done since I was 12, so I think I could be labeled an nail aficionado....knowing how things are suppose to be done. So, she takes a fake nail and thinks she's about to use that to seperate my nail from the acrylic, popping my nails off. I had to stop her and show her that these are my nails and that way of taking them off would break my real nails, so dont do that. She acts as if she understands, pulls out a bowl to soak my hands in acetone. Cool. We're on track. Her impatience got the best of her. Long story short...she breaks one of my nails and I get pissed.

I tell her that I'm pissed and I told her not to do that because I knew what the outcome would be. She tries to tell me that it will be okay. I'm like no it won't. Now I have to cut all my nails to have a uniformed appearance. That's tacky to have different length nails...in my opinon. So, I tell her to continue and I just won't be back. She starts clucking in her native tongue and Mighty Mouse, the owner, comes over to save the day or get her ass whooped depending on who you ask. She instantly gets amped. I'm sitting at the nail station with my hands in the bowl and this chick is telling me that she doesn't know what I expect them to do....it was an accident...she could put a fake nail on it, which in defeats the purpose. If I wanted acrylic back on my hands then that's what I would have gotten. Mind you, her face is like 6 inches from mine and she's going off. I stopped her in mid-sentence and told her to back up. She stopps yapping and looks at me like she couldn't believe I said that. So, I said it again..."You need to back up out my face and get out my personal space." She huffs, but she backs up and starts raising her voice. I stop her again..."Lower your voice if you're going to speak to me. I'm not yelling and disrespecting you and I won't be disrespected." She huffs again and walks off saying that they weren't going to finish my nails and tell the tech to stop doing them. I laugh. Seriously....I laughed out loud. I told her as calm as I could, " I'm not leaving with my hands like this. You'll either fix them or you won't get paid for anything. Choose."

See, when you're dealing with people of other races they sometimes expect you to act a fool so they can say, " see how black people act." I chose to let her act a damn fool while I remained the voice of reasoning.

The tech finishes taking the acrylic off. I tell her no need for the manicure. She had fucked up enough for one day. I pay and leave. I get to the car and realize that I don't have my phone. Clearly I left in the shop...right? Right. Peep the shadiness.

I go back in the shop and ask the girl at the front did she see my phone. No. I walk back to the station and ask my tech. No. I walk back out to the truck and dump the contents of my purse out on the seat. I walk back in the shop and ask her to call it. She does. No ring. She points to a sign that says they aren't responsible for lost or stolen things. I tell her "Bullshit. That's a $500 phone. I'm about to call the police and ain't nobody leaving." I tell her I'll be right back to check my purse again because it's about to get ugly. Mind you we are parked right in front of the salon and no one has come in or out while all of this is going on. As I'm walking out my Roomie is walking in. She tells me that she has been calling my phone and it's going right to voicemail. That means that someone is hitting the end button, thus someone does have my phone. I walk back in and this white chick that was sitting in my old seat says with a smile, " It was in the chair". I snatch it and walk out. I hear her say behind me, "You're welcome." It took everything in my soul not to turn around and choke that thieving bitch out. Instead I kept it moving.

I remember before I got up I took my phone out of my purse to check the missed call. I must have set it back in the seat instead of putting it in my purse. I have a PDA. That's not a small phone. So, there is no way in hell her flat ass didn't feel it when she set down. Plus, when I called it I never heard a ring in the shop. And, if it did ring and it was just muffeled because she was sitting on it she should have felt it vibrate. And, when my roommate was calling it was going to Voice Mail. This Bitch tried to jack me for my phone. All she would have to do is switch out the SIM card and she got a PDA.

And, they say *Africans* ain't shit!


Smooches :)