The Day I Shouted At Someone’s Mother In The Nail Salon

Featured Photo by Liza Summer from Pexels

I hate to admit it but I’m somewhat of a people pleaser. I want to go with the flow and choose things that leave everyone comfortable, even if I am left unsatisfied. 

I have been trying to work on that for the longest time, sometimes finding a non confrontational way to stand my ground. There was one day where all that non confrontational stuff came to a halt. 

My nails were looking busted and my manicure was overdue for a refill. I called my nail guy, who told me the shop was all booked up that weekend (it was a Saturday) and that I should return on Monday morning. I complied, knowing he is a busy guy with a few employees – his nail parlor is always full.

Monday morning rolled around and it was grey and drizzly. I didn’t want to reschedule and risk looking like a troll for the rest of the week, so I bundled up in some sweaters and left. 

When I got there, I was surprised it was still fully packed with clients. I sat down on the only available seat which was near the door. That’s where problems begun. One of his employees came to prep my nails as my nail tech was still working on someone else. I caught the chills, and started sneezing. Not to worry though, I came stacked with hankies and hand sanitizer; I saw the weather, I knew my nose, I was prepared! I kept my mask on save for a moment to clear my nose or to take a sip of water. The client next to me wasn’t amused. 

This middle aged lady, about 40-45 year old momma type, started giving me the stink eye and muttering to herself. I had earbuds in so I didn’t hear what she said at first, but after a while I got curious. I discreetly paused my music and listened. “Banange do people here have Corona?!” “I don’t want to catch corona I got it ko once and it was hell”

She was not quiet about her lamentations. I stayed silent. She then proceeded to announce to the nail tech – and the entire shop – that she was moving to another seat across the room (one I hadn’t seen before and was arguably in a more cozy place). She left and sat there, but that isn’t where she stopped. She continued talking about how I had covid and she didn’t want to get sick, pointing me out to whoever would ask. I felt humiliated in that moment and contemplated leaving. 

I was held hostage by the junior nail tech who was now working on my feet as she stalled for the main guy. I thought of so many options. Say something, don’t say anything. Leave and don’t come back, say something to my nail tech (who btw was the owner of the establishment if I hadn’t made that clear yet) – I wasn’t sure. All I knew was at the moment I had a bubbling brook of anger rising from within. Who was this vile woman and what gave her the right to announce my little sniffles? Did she not have eyes to see the literal drops of rain outside the door? Was she so reptilian that she didn’t notice the cold?

Now I’m one of those people who is unfortunately cursed to be a princess at heart. I like my battles to be fought for me, I like soft life, but most of all when I’m angry it shows up in my eyes via my tear ducts. I’m an angry cryer, yes we exist, yes we matter. True to form, the corners of my eyes stung with pure vengeful ideations, and since I had a mask on, I tried to wipe them inconspicuously. All this while the junior tech was sloppily painting my toe nails white. I was disgusted and didn’t want to be worked on in this place anymore. I also grew angry at the main nail tech guy. I had been his customer for the last 5 years, coming in consistently every fortnight or so. Couldn’t he say something? Even if he didn’t stand up to the rude gyal, he could come to me and see if his other paying client was okay? He never did. 

By the time the junior girl was done with my toes, I was done with the establishment and I made my decision on what to do about it. My main nail tech was conveniently working on the gu woman when I decided to walk over there and give her a piece of my mind. “I get it you were uncomfortable with my ALLERGIES but to claim I have corona is just ignorant,” I started. She looked doe eyed at me. No back talk, so I continued, louder this time. “Any one can see it’s raining and to make a spectacle out of my discomfort is just plain wrong. You didn’t have to shout for everyone in this place!” She was now very uncomfortable and started shelling out empty “I’m sorry’s” but I ignored her. “It’s your prerogative to move and sit wherever you want but to single me out as the reason why? No. Absolutely no.” By this point by the way, know that my voice was very much shaking, and all eyes were on our corner of the store. My nail tech looked at me sheepishly, so I addressed him. “Hey Dude* I won’t sit here to be worked on when this woman is still here. Call me when she leaves.” 

And with that I made my triumphant exit. It was a movie moment, but more than that, it reaffirmed my strength to some extent. Four years ago I never would have done that. It felt like standing up to my bullies, who until that moment I just ignored and hoped they’d go away (they eventually did). This time I faced the thing that hurt me in the face and told it all the ways that it hurt me, and that I wouldn’t let it happen. Doesn’t matter that I did it through the tears. I was fierce! I went home and cried some more, and vented to my friend in full detail and long voice notes. I then washed my face and found a new salon. 

The new nail tech is even better than the old guy, so I never went back.

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