I went to the salon to have a mani and pedi, something I don't do often enough apparently because the little owner of the shop greeted me by name with a big hug and said it had been a long time. Well....October to be exact where I used to visit twice a month.
There were a few changes, "Golden Girls" and music videos on their big screen TV had been replaced by X Games. Cool. One of the owners son's was looking at knives online. Slightly disturbing, but OK.
I had settled in enjoying the relative peace and quiet when the inevitable attention whore swept in with her entourage of unkempt children. She opened by loudly asking how long the wait would be for a manicure for one of her teens like she was one cupcake away from total starvation. Oh, right away. She probably could have used a shower more than a manicure I'm thinking.
Then the phone calls started. Attention Whore spent the next 20 minutes loudly discussing an impending auto purchase on her cell phone. Names were named, prices were uttered. She was apparently trading in some shitbox that the dealer wasn't interested in and wasn't that crying shame.
I had started the afternoon with a hope for Serenity Now and concluded it with Murder in My Heart.
Go away, loud lady.
"Hear that? The fat lady is singing you out of the building" |
"Oh", sniffed a relative, "where we laughing too loud? It didn't look like it was very busy.
Just to be clear ( NEWSFLASH) if you have to ASK if you are being inappropriate you probably are. And it isn't worth my valuable time to explain why or make you feel all warm and fuzzy because I just don't feel like it.
1 comment:
You're gonna drive the Press-Ganey scores down.
Good for you!
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