The Nail Guy

Yesterday I decided to see what exactly my new digs had to offer in the realm of consumerism, which is basically a fancy way of saying I went shopping. I even braved the mall. And like all malls, this one was littered with annoying people in the center of the aisle polluting the air with abercrombie and fitch-esque odors and threatening to hit you with little whirly toys. Even though I knew I was being approached by a giant scam, I somehow could not summon the bitchiness to avoid the nail guy. And sadly, he’s not my first nail guy.

He immediately begins asking me information like my age, where I’m from, yadda yadda. And what do you know, we are both 22, moved here from Philadelphia, and have been in the area for a month. Yeah, like I believe that. I did have fun talking in big words to confuse him (he was foreign…). And what do you know? He knew I was of Irish descent (after first asking if I was Jewish, then German, then Canadian haha).

He then grabs my hand and begins working on my thumb nail with various sides of this cube. While working on me he asks really obvious questions like “Do you like diamonds?” “Do you know what silk is?” and “Do you like massages?” And talk of massages prompted him to ask if I had a boyfriend. As all random people in the mall are, he was surprised that a girl as beautiful as me would be single. For one, if looks were the only thing necessary to bag me the perfect man I’d be married off long ago (hahahahaha). For two, I really hate when people ask why I’m single. It’s not always a personal choice nail guy. Maybe too many lamezors like you have been monopolizing all my time!?

So, then there was the grand finale when he revealed how shiny my thumb nail now is, waited for me to be amazed, and tried to sell me products that come from the dead sea (“Do you know what the Dead Sea is?” UGH, of course I do IDIOT!). I promptly declined and said that I don’t really care what my nails look like. He then asked, “But when is the last time your nails looked this gooood?!” And here’s the part where I was tired of being nice and went Philly on his ass. I said, “The last time some annoying person in the mall wouldn’t just let me fucking walk by” and walked away. BAZINGA! Take that nail guy.

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2 responses to “The Nail Guy

  1. ahahahahaha i loved the turn of events that this post took in the course of a few pargraphs. Also, this made me flash back to our nail experience freshman year.

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