“Well hello there, Crash!”

Several years ago, my client Denise & her husband Greg were at home one Sunday morning when the phone rang. It was Greg’s elderly father. The man was in a panic because he couldn’t get the garage door opener to work & he was going to be late for church. He asked Denise if she could send his son over to open it for him, so Greg drove right over to help him out.

Upon arriving in the driveway Greg pulled up to the closed garage door, walked up to the front door of the house & entered it calling out for his Dad. Upon not finding him inside, Greg opened the interior door leading into the garage & saw his Dad. His father was sitting inside his car anxiously awaiting the garage door to open. As Greg manually released the garage door, his father started the motor, quickly put it into reverse & hit the gas pedal hard. He never looked into the rear view mirror.

Unfortunately for Greg’s brand new SUV, that meant a severely smashed bumper, plus a jolting shock for his father. As Denise put it, Greg said his father was “visibly distressed”, which cracked me up because it sounded like she was recounting a newspaper article or police report. The good news is that her father-in-law made it to church on time because as she said “he leaves 40 minutes early & it’s a 10 minute ride”.

A day or so later her father-in-law called again & said he’d like to bring over a check for
Greg to cover the expense of getting his SUV fixed. Now, since her relationship with her father-in-law was a strained one at best, she said that was between him & his son and that she’d just stay out of it. Within a few hours the doorbell rang & Denise got up to answer it. Upon opening the door to see her elderly father-in-law standing on the porch, she jokingly said with a smile “Well, hello there Crash!”

 
A stricken look came across his face & he sort of staggered back a step. Not knowing why this was, she invited him into the house & told him Greg was in the shower, but he’d be right out. The elderly man started to say something, but just stammered a few disjointed words & basically got all flustered. Finally when he got it together to form a cohesive sentence, he sputtered indignantly “I’ve NEVER in all my life been called “TRASH”!

Denise explained that she said “Crash”, but I don’t think he was having any of it. So she went to get Greg out of the shower & told him the story, ending it with “and your father thought I called him “trash”. She figured she’d better tell on herself first before her father-in-law did. Greg tried to smooth it over with his dad, but I’m not sure how well that went.

Anyway, his father presented him with a check for $100 to cover the damage to his SUV (bless his heart, he still thought it was 1945). Greg said something to the effect of “Well Dad, this isn’t even going to begin to cover it. It’ll be more like $1000.” I don’t think his father truly believed it & he left probably thinking they were trying to rip him off. After a few days they got the estimate for over $800 & subsequently had the vehicle fixed.

A weekend or two after that Denise & Greg went out of town to a B&B. The next morning the owner of the Bed and Breakfast backed out of her garage & sideswiped their newly repaired SUV! Denise said that she too, like the father-in-law, was “visibly distressed”. Once again, Greg was in the shower when Denise had to break the unfortunate news.

We joked that if there’s a third time then the vehicle must be cursed & they should promptly get rid of it. But as time went on, there were no further accidents with this SUV. However the same could not be said for the father-in-law. He went on to total several cars as he aged (like spoiled milk, most would say). Being extremely cantankerous, he refused to give up driving no matter how many lives he put at risk.

After totaling another car, his insurance company dropped him. Denise & Greg created an account with a local taxi service that would take the old coot anywhere he wanted to go, but the bill would be paid by them so it wouldn’t cost him a dime. They nearly flipped out one day when they discovered he had strangers he’d just met up at the Mall drive him home (he’d told them his family was being mean to him by not letting him drive, so they felt sorry for hime). It was very apparent that he resented not being in control of his transportation.

Then it got worse. One day Greg got a call from the neighborhood meter reader (it’s a small town where many people know each other) who said “I remembered you telling me about your Dad’s car accidents & how you had a taxi service for him, but I think you should know that I just saw a car in his garage“. Greg nearly stroked out & immediately squealed tires over to his Dad’s house!

I’ll be darned if the old guy hadn’t called around to all the car dealers until he found one who would deliver him a car, whereupon he wrote a $9k check to pay for it. He refused to give it up despite his son pleading with him, but the fickle finger of fate stepped in. Within a few days he crashed into a ditch, totaling the car that he’d been driving for a week without any insurance. I can’t recall if the police cited him for that offense or if he just ran out of money, but he never drove again.

How did it all end? He got meaner & more ornery until the day that he died several years later, well into his 80’s.

your old & Driving Terrifies everyone

 

 

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“The Screaming Orthodontist”

In 2008 when the market tanked & massive downsizing was sweeping the nation, my sweet client Penelope’s husband was laid off from his factory job. That made her salary all the more vital while he waited to be rehired or transferred to one of their sister factories out of state. It took almost a year, but his transfer finally came thru, so he moved to get started on his new job while Penelope stayed behind to pack & keep the house on the market until it sold.

Penelope worked for a local, well-known orthodontist here in town who had a lucrative business keeping teenagers in braces. To his patients, he was the fantastic “Dr. Jekyll” & they loved him. But behind closed doors he became “Mr. Hyde” & treated his staff like he owned slaves. He probably would’ve whipped them if he thought he wouldn’t be arrested.

He was extremely verbally abusive & insulting on a daily basis, to both the men & the women who worked in his office, but everyone was too afraid to quit for fear they wouldn’t get another job due to the Great Recession. I soon saw a pattern in Penelope when she’d come in after work to get her nails done & it was not good. She was visibly upset, near tears, flustered & obviously not her normal happy self.

She’d confide that 24/7 she was a nervous wreck, her stomach was in knots & her bowels were in an uproar all the time, plus in addition to being away from her husband, the stress of trying to pack an entire household & get it sold in the depleted real estate market was killing her. Add all that on top of being verbally abused by her boss had made her life a living hell.

3 incidents Penelope told me have stuck with me all these years. Incident #1 was when she asked her boss a work related question & he told her that she was a “nosy old woman” in front of other staff! She had to go find the answer from another source because he wouldn’t respond & she was too afraid to ask again. The 2nd incident involved the boss calling the staff into the back break room one day where he proceeded to scream & use profanities at them! He pounded his fist on the table while he was yelling at them, causing 1 woman to start crying.

When I asked what did the male employees do when this happened, she said they did nothing. Nobody did anything except stand there looking scared. Everyone just took it because their fear of losing their paycheck was greater than their need to stand up for their rights. During this “meeting” while he was having a verbal meltdown & pounding on the table, there came a knock at the back door which was situated a few feet behind him.

Her boss stopped in mid tirade, turned & yelled at the door “God Damnit, who IS it?”! The back door opened a few inches & a man’s hand with a brown sleeve reached thru holding a clipboard with a paper & pen. The boss snatched the clipboard from the hand, scribbled his signature on the paper & thrust the clipboard with pen back into the man’s hand.

The hand retracted with the pen attached to the clipboard & then reappeared holding a small box. The boss grabbed the box & the hand quickly disappeared outside the door again, after which the boss kicked the door shut with great force & continued “the meeting” where he berated each of his employees one by one in turn, calling them out for various & sundry infractions.

Penelope said nobody ever saw the UPS man’s face, but she was sure the guy had to have heard the loud screaming & cursing before he knocked. The poor guy probably squealed tires out of the parking lot & once back at the UPS facility asked to be assigned to a different route after that. He probably went home extremely thankful for his job & the fact that he didn’t work for that big bully.

I was beyond shocked & morally outraged. I could feel my face flushing with anger at how she & the others had been treated. This man had taken advantage of their fear caused by the most devastating financial crisis of our lifetime to abuse his power. He took his power trip out on those who depended on him for their survival & knowing jobs were scarce, he went over the top to create a hostile work environment. Too bad nobody secretly videoed him during his scream fest. That would’ve made an epic YouTube video & been a key piece of evidence in a massive lawsuit.

I told Penelope that the last he’d have seen of me was when I told him to fuck off & waved goodby with my middle finger flying high. Then I’d have walked out of there with my dignity intact singing “Take This Job & Shove It” as I drove 2 blocks down to McDonald’s where I’d have filled out an application. I’d freaking pick up cans out of ditches beside roads to recycle for money before I’d work at that hell hole.

I remember thinking “Thank GOD I do nails for a living & am self employed”! No paycheck is worth what she went thru & the indignities she suffered, of that I am certain. It makes me mad to this day when I think about it because he’s still got a thriving business here in town where most likely he’s abusing an entirely new staff.

The 3rd incident happened at Christmas, when his whole staff was required to work a half day on Christmas Eve. When quitting time came, the boss gave each employee $100 with instructions to go to the mall & purchase something for themselves. Can you imagine the hell that is Christmas Eve at a mall with last minute shoppers scurrying everywhere, harried clerks not in the most festive mood & bare shelves with remaining items torn asunder?

Their orders were as such: they could NOT use the money for groceries or to pay bills (even if they were facing bankruptcy or their cars were about to be repo’d). They HAD to spend all of the $100 AND bring the receipt with the remaining change left over to his house that night so they could all “celebrate” the business’s Christmas party.

At this ‘party’ on Christmas Eve (never mind that they wanted to spend it with their own families), the boss made each of them stand up & show all the others exactly what they had purchased thanks to his generosity, then give him the receipts (no doubt for a tax write off), plus whatever leftover change in bills & coins.

I can’t recall what she said she bought for herself, but it wasn’t something she really wanted or needed. She just bought anything to get the ordeal over with as soon as possible. But it was a fact that nobody enjoyed the command performance that evening except for the boss & possibly his wife. To add insult to injury, they had to all stay to eat dinner with him, too!

Upon her concluding this story at my nail table, I know my mouth was agape & my hand had stopped filing. I swear to God, she wasn’t kidding. And she was too upset for it to be a lie. It’s mind boggling how that man had the utter disregard for another person’s life & it became evident that this reputable orthodontist is undoubtedly a raging narcissist with sociopathic tendencies. 

How it ended was when her house finally sold & they took a big loss just to get out of it. Penelope packed up & was finally free to give notice before moving away. We still keep in touch from time to time thanks to Facebook & my life was made better just by knowing her. The same cannot be said about the orthodontist.

he's a good guy when yo get to know him

“It’s a Small World After All”

You’d think that in a city as big as Chicago, this sort of thing couldn’t happen….but it did.

Back in the 80’s I worked in a small nail salon with the 2 owners, Ramone & Vivienne, who claimed to be brother & sister (they really weren’t, but that’s another story). Our nail tables were all positioned next to each other in one fairly small area so that we all worked side by side.

Everyone heard everyone else’s conversations & many times all of our clients were conversing with each other, as we 3 techs joined in on the hot topics, too. One day Vivienne had a new client, a female cop (out of uniform) in her chair & as they were chit-chatting the woman started pouring out her guts to Vivienne about the sexual harassment she’d been enduring on the force.

According to her she’d been pursued by a married fellow police officer & had shunned his advances, but was now being bothered by him & his buddies on the force. I didn’t hear all of the story, as my table was furthest from Viviennes, but I heard most of it & most likely so did the client in my chair, plus also the client Ramone was working on, too.

Perhaps a week or more had passed when all of a sudden the female cop barged into the
salon decked out in full police uniform. She presented a very intimidating image with her gun in her side holster as she began loudly yelling at Vivienne.

All work came to an abrupt halt as everyone in the room gaped in shock at her red, angry face. She accused Vivienne of disclosing their conversation to someone in her department regarding the sexual harassment she had divulged on her last visit & she was now in trouble with her superiors.

The police woman was mortified that her coworkers knew her personal business & her work life was now unbearable. She let Vivienne know in no uncertain terms that she would never be back & upon having her say, she turned, storming out the door as it slammed behind her. We never saw her again.

Poor Vivienne was so stunned & shaken by the encounter, plus all of us were beyond embarrassed for her. She swore on all that was holy she had never told a soul about their conversation & couldn’t understand how such a thing could have happened. We all truly felt bad about it, but what could we do now? The damage was already done.

I cannot recall how we figured it out, but evidently the client Ramone had been working on that day when the female cop was initially telling Vivienne about the harassment actually knew the man in question (the alleged harasser).  She must’ve told someone else what she had heard that day in the nail salon & it gotten back to him or possibly she told him herself.

Now if this could happen in a large city the size of Chicago, imagine what gossiping could do in a small town?

The moral of the story for clients (& salon staff, too): don’t talk about anything you wouldn’t want printed on the front page of your local newspaper because you never know who else is listening. Take it to your grave or to your priest in confession.

we're networking

 

 

“Chlorox was her name”

Several years ago a client told me about one of her new co-workers at the factory. Apparently this pretty young blonde chick was temping there & in the lunch room, in front of God & everyone (that’s Southern for a lot of people, both men & women) she’d talk about very inappropriate things…..such as her breast implants & her anal bleaching.

SCREEEEEEECH! Back up. What. The. Frick?

I’d never heard of “anal bleaching” before then! Thoughts raced thru my mind…..firstly, WHY? Secondly, HOW? Thirdly, EEW!

I’m not sure what was said next because I think my mind couldn’t process how anyone other than a porn star would want to do or have need for such a thing (let alone pay money for it), but I do remember that after that incident this chick’s nickname at the factory (but not to her face) became “Chlorox”.

On subsequent visits & thru further conversations with my client, over the years I accidentally discovered who ‘Chlorox’ was! Without naming names (for legal purposes), I can only say that she used to be a nail tech before she got a divorce & gave nails up in pursuit of other things.

Word gets out in a small town, so I’d heard about it thru the beauty grapevine.  A few years ago this tech had left town without giving notice to the salon owner nor any of her clients that were on her appointment book. She’d left all her supplies there as if she were returning to work & simply moved out of state.

It was so bizarre! The poor salon owner who she booth rented from was left fielding angry complaints from people who wanted to redeem gift certificates (the tech sold the GC’s & pocketed the money since she was self employed) from clients who showed up for their appointments only to discover their tech had vanished.

Evidently she’d moved back at some point & it was always presumed that ‘Chlorox’ was fishing for a new husband at the factory…….one who was much older, near retirement & who’d have a good pension (if you get my drift).

 

anal bleaching- assholes lighten up

 

 

“The Bailout”

I once had a client (age 60+ & still working at a job) who withdrew from her retirement fund to pay off her 30+ yr old son’s debts just to keep him from filing bankruptcy. Silently I thought she’d lost her freaking mind & almost bit my tongue off not to say it. How could she & her husband think this was a good idea?

Being so close to retirement & not having the many years ahead of her that her son did to recoup her investments was mind-boggling. I briefly envisioned my parents/myself in that scenario…. as they gazed upon me with disappointment they’d have said “you made your bed & now you have to lay in it” (meaning “bail your own dumb ass out!”). But then again as a 30+ yr old adult, I’d never have asked nor expected my parents to financially rescue me from the results of my own bad decisions.

Anyway, it staved off the inevitable….for a few years. He went deeply into debt again living his lavish lifestyle & when the market turned in 2008 he lost his job, his house was foreclosed on, but he wouldn’t sell his about to be repo’d _______ (insert brand of extremely expensive car) because he “needed to look good for his next job in sales”. On top of that he/his fiancé were planning a wedding, preceding the unexpected baby that would be arriving soon thereafter. 

When he came around again with his hand out, looking for another bailout, this time his parents were financially tapped out. They refused to drain the last of their retirement savings for him, his car or his wedding. So he planned the blessed event to occur in his parents home (lol) & invited all of his & his fiancé’s friends.

It was winter. And their house was small. Sound pleasant? Nope. Do you think he first asked permission from his folks (the actual homeowners)? Nope. You think he paid for any of the food or alcohol? Nope.

So the day finally came for the wedding & I did her nails on the day prior. When she returned a month later I asked how everything went. What she told me just broke my heart. If I was his mother I’d have taken that to the grave before telling a soul, after I was finished crying my eyes out.

He wanted his mom, his sister & his fiancé to look fantastic for the wedding, so he made appointments for them at one of our local day spas. When they were finished getting pampered & were about to leave, THAT’S when they were presented with the bill (several hundred dollars)!

They all had just assumed he’d already paid for everything, since it was HIS idea & HE was the one who made the appointments for them. His mom barely had enough money to pay for 2 people, so his sister had to pay for her own services. Thoughtless of him? Yes.

But fairly predictable based on his past behavior, wouldn’t you say?
What are the chances that this son will either want to OR be financially able to take care of his parents in their twilight years?

So remember parents….when you raise your children to be prince & princesses, you may think it’s oh-so cute at the time, but eventually you wind up with selfish assholes as adults & you only have yourself to thank for it.

Oh, one more thing that’s MOST important……buy good long-term care insurance now while you’re still financially able & before your first heart attack, stroke or diabetes diagnosis precludes you. It’ll be cheaper & better for you in the long run when weighed against the odds of your offspring actually caring for you.

 

Time out? no, its a spanking

Lesson #1: Why Not to Drink at Trade Shows (if you care about your career).

Happy 2017! With show season starting soon, this particular story came to mind.

My first (& last) foray into working for a corporation was back in the 90’s when I was hired by a major East Coast beauty supply distributor to work in their showroom. Each year they held a small trade show about an hour from corporate headquarters. Since I was low man on the totem pole that year, I had to stay behind to work the store over that weekend.

When the rest of my coworkers returned, they had all kinds of good stories to tell me, but 1 in particular stuck with me. I’m happy to say that I’m the type of person who learns from other peoples mistakes. Maybe by telling this story it will help some of you avoid this same fate, too.

For those who aren’t in the beauty business, it’s customary for every show to hold a big party the night before the show floor opens for business. At this particular party one of the women who worked in the corporate office (can’t recall which division) had too much to drink. She began hanging all over 1 of the distributorships owners & was telling him how hot he was (very untrue) & how she wanted him (I’m sure she did at the time). To make matters even worse, the man’s wife (who also worked at the corporation) was present at this party, too.

It was evident that she was 3 sheets to the wind, so they called security to come escort (basically carry) the woman back to her hotel room. The hotel was connected to the ballroom where the party & the show were being held. The guards dumped her into her room & left her there, but later they found her crawling down the hallway trying to find her way back to the party!

All I can say is that it was a damn good thing for her that cell phones & social media hadn’t been invented yet. Nowadays, several people would’ve snapped a photo of her drunkenly crawling down the hallway, then hash tagged it “#hotdrunkenmess” & people across the world would’ve known about it before the party even ended. It probably would’ve been made into a scandalous meme & gone viral, too.

Believe me, it was THE talk of the whole corporation because you know how word spreads when people make fools of themselves in public. A few weeks later we heard that woman’s name being called over the loudspeaker to report to the owner’s office. All of us in the showroom looked at each other & went “Uh-oh”! She was only with the company a few more weeks after that. We figured that she was told to find a new job & they graciously allowed her to leave quietly with whatever dignity she still had intact. We never heard or saw her again.

Since then I’ve been to several show parties & have only encountered 1 educator that was way too tipsy. When you’re slurring your words, you are WAY too tipsy. I made a mental note to avoid this man in the future because he obviously does not use good judgement.

The moral of the story: never drink alcohol at a business function, even if it’s free. The price of your reputation being ruined is just way too high.

cocktail-parties-are-about-unwinding

 

“The Egg Rolls”

     Judy was a client of mine who as best I can describe was a stocky, weathered, no-nonsense country grandma. She was as nice as can be, but unless she was smiling she always seemed to have a perpetual “I’ll beat you down if you look at me sideways” scowl on her face. Plus she had gotten to that age when some women just don’t give a flip anymore. They’ve put up with enough B.S. over the years & they just say whatever is on their minds (regardless of the Southern manners their Momma’s taught them), if you know what I mean?

     As I was doing her nails one day, she recounted this story to me about how she loved this certain brand of egg rolls, but her local grocery store had stopped carrying them. She hunted around town until she found another store that carried them & as luck would have it, she also found some coupons for the egg rolls in the local paper, too.

     So one day on her lunch break she drove over to the poorer section of town where this other store was located, just to get her favorite egg rolls. As she was standing in this very long line, she notices that there’s only 1 register open. As the line slowly moved along, she can hear the young clerk apologizing to the customers while ringing up their products. Apparently the other employees were all on their lunch breaks, leaving her as the sole lane open.

     Judy said that the line grew even longer behind her & she could hear people sighing with frustration. One white dude was talking on his cell phone, a Mexican man was just standing in line looking around, some other random white woman was behind the Mexican man, while 2 black girls at the back of the line were talking loudly about how “this was bullshit”, “why was this taking so long” & how the “store needed to open up another register“, etc. etc.

    Finally it was Judy’s turn & the young clerk apologized for the delay as she hurriedly rang up all of Judy’s many egg roll boxes. The poor girl was sweating & moving as fast as she could because she knew the people in line were getting annoyed. When Judy was told her final grocery bill, that’s when she realized she had forgotten to give her the coupons!

     So Judy apologized & quickly was digging the coupons out of her purse as the clerk was probing buttons on the register to re-ring her order, when one of the black chicks from the back of the line said VERY loudly “Oh, sure…. NOW miss WHITE ass is using COUPONS”!

    Judy looked up at the clerk & said “No she just did not just say that, did she?” & the clerk darted her eyes away as she rang up the coupons. Everybody in line got quiet, as if all the air was sucked out of the room. Judy turned around to face the people in line, looked straight at the 2 girls at the back of the line & said equally loudly “Oh sure….and MISS black ass is probably using FOOD STAMPS!”

     Someone let out a gasp & the one black girl turned to her friend & busted out laughing saying “Giiirrrllll…YOU got TOLD!” And with that nobody said another word as Judy paid for her egg rolls & left the store.

get over it

“To feed or not to feed?”

My client Melanie had been with me for about 2 years & had recently given birth to her 2nd baby. Melanie was fanatical about keeping her nail appointments & would bring her newborn with her, which then always made me run late because inevitably the baby would need tending to.

On this particular day while I was doing her manicure, the baby started to get fussy & needed to be fed. I was still trying to build my clientele & needed every warm body in my chair, therefore I tried to accommodate her when she wanted to breast feed the baby in the middle of her nail service. Yes, you read it right…IN THE MIDDLE OF HER MANICURE!

We draped the lightweight baby’s blanket over the head of the feeding baby & positioned it over Melanie’s shoulder so that nothing improper was showing. She cradled the baby with one hand while I tried to work one her other hand. Can you imagine how difficult it was to keep her from smearing her wet nail polish as she balanced the baby that was attached to her boob AND tried to keep the blanket in place? This was the first, the last & the only time we ever attempted this.

It was at that precise moment the UPS man came to deliver a package & at the same time another employee must’ve had the back door open to take out the trash. As the UPS man pulled open the salon’s front door, it created a vacuum suction effect, which caused some interior salon doors to suddenly slam shut. At the same time a huge gust of wind blew forth from the open front door, snatching the baby blanket completely off Melanie & blowing it up into the air!

The blanket landed about 3 feet across the room, leaving Melanie’s naked breast fully exposed, complete with the attached baby who proceeded to happily keep on feeding. The UPS man was MOR-TI-FIED, along with the receptionist, me & Melanie herself!

I jumped up from the nail table, grabbed the blanket from off the floor & positioned it to cover the baby’s head/Melanie’s boob again. She took this opportunity to stop feeding & got herself together so that I could finish the manicure. The UPS man left the package with the receptionist & promptly fled the building. Melanie couldn’t leave fast enough either.

After they’d all cleared out, the receptionist & I tried so hard not to crack up, but after closing time we laughed hysterically. For about a week, every time we made eye contact we’d bust out laughing!

The moral of the story: I support your right to breast feed in public as long as it’s not done at my nail table!

yes-breast-feeding-is-naturalbut-so-is-taking-a-dump-and-screwing-but-do-you-want-me-doing-it-in-the-middle-of-the-restaurant-dd84b

“The Acrylic Nail Biter”

Daria was a good client of mine when I lived in Chicago & for years I’d see her weekly for her acrylic nails. For those of you who aren’t aware, typically you only see the client once every 2-3 weeks when they have acrylic nails. Somehow Daria would manage to bite off the top layer of acrylic, but her own nails underneath were still in great shape. They were long & strong, but she still insisted that I coat them with acrylic, which meant I’d see her for an hour appointment each week.

Secretly I was frustrated with her! She was a thirty-something year old, beautiful, professional woman of Greek heritage. Both of her parents came over from Greece & they wanted her to date only Greek men. This was long before the movie “My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding” ever was conceived. I kept thinking to myself “how could she ruin all my fabulous work by biting off her acrylic”? Yet each week I kept those thoughts to myself, thankfully never showing her how frustrated I was.

    

One night we were the last two people in the nail salon & as I was working on her nails, she slowly revealed to me the reason why she was such a nervous wreck that she continued to bite off her acrylic nails. A few years back she’d gone out dancing with some girlfriends when she became overheated. Needing fresh air, she went outside the club & suddenly she was grabbed by a man who pulled her into an alley. He made her take off her boots & jeans, then he raped her up against the brick wall.

Afterwards when she called the police, the officer questioned her as to why she was wearing her pants inside out. Back then there was no such thing as “sensitivity training”. She was in shock, horrified by what she’d just experienced & then he asked her something so stupid. Duh, the alley was dark when she threw on her jeans as she quickly tried to get away! She suffered all kinds of humiliating questions from the detectives over the course of the investigation, not to mention having to submit to the invasive exam to gather evidence of the rape.

She’d lived with this experience for years, only telling her parents that she’d been mugged. In their traditional Greek culture, the women are expected to marry as virgins (at least all the elderly Greeks believe in that). She didn’t ever want her parents to know what had really happened to her that night. The police caught her attacker, who happened to be black, which explained her extreme dislike for black people. Who knows, I might’ve felt the same way if that had happened to me, so I tried not to judge her racism.

Anyway, the case was going to trial soon & she’d have to take the stand in front of a room full of people, describing in great detail what her rapist had done to her. Her parents, still thinking that she’d been mugged, wanted to be in court to support her. She was franticly trying to figure out how to NOT let that happen. What do you say when someone tells you something like that? Words just aren’t enough.

  

Unfortunately, I moved away & I never found out how her story ended. That experience taught me a valuable lesson.….. don’t assume you know what motivates clients to bite their nails. Your perception of reality is based solely on the information your clients willingly give to you, so you may never know the real reason of why they do the things they do. I really liked Daria & wonder from time to time how things turned out. I hope she’s had a better, happier life since then because she deserved it, but more importantly, I hope she’s found peace.

when you can't forgive someone

“The Trail of Bread Crumbs”

One night I was pedicuring a client when it came time to put her flip flops on. She apologized for using old flip flops that she’d dug out of the depths of her closet & said I should please excuse their look. No problem. I’d seen worse. We finished up, removed the toe separators & I was preparing to walk her out to her car since it was after dark.

As she started walking across the tile salon floor, there came a squeaky sort of noise that continued with each step. It sounded like she was sticking to the floor or something & we both commented that the floor must’ve just been waxed. I was walking ahead of her to unlock the front door & as I held the door open for her to pass by, I noticed some bread crumbs on the floor behind her.

Nothing too out of the ordinary for the reception area, since clients were always snacking on something while waiting for their appointments. Then I noticed that my client was having difficulty walking across the parking lot. It looked as though her flip flops were sticking to the sidewalk & she was struggling to lift each leg up, as if her legs were too heavy. It sort of looked like she was walking on the moon in slow motion & I thought “WTH?”!

I noticed with each step, the trail of bread crumbs behind her got longer & pieces were appearing everywhere around her! As she got next to her vehicle, she leaned onto it for support. It was dark outside, so all I could really see was her standing in a large mess of white bread crumbs. Crumbs were scattered all over the ground. Big pieces, little pieces……it was a huge mess! I noticed the heel (the crusty end piece) of the bread was lying next to her foot & my 1st thought was “What the heck was someone doing with a loaf of bread in the parking lot?”

Then I heard my client ask for help! I came over to where she was leaning against the vehicle & that’s when it became evident that these were not bread crumbs. These white crumbly things were the remnants of her old flip flops! With every step she took they disintegrated further into pieces!

By now all that pretty much remained of the flip flops was the rubber strap part that went across her foot & between the toes, plus a very thin layer of sole. What I thought was the heel of a loaf of bread was actually the instep to one of the flip flops! We were both shocked & amazed, to say the least. My client opened her car door & sat on the seat with her legs hanging out of the car so that I could gently slip the remains of her flip flops off her feet without messing up her freshly polished toes. It was crazy!

Needless to say, she had to drive home barefoot (so much for keeping her feet soft & smooth). We both had such a big laugh over it tho! After several days of contemplating, I finally figured out what had happened. The flip flops were old & dry rotted. When she placed her foot onto my knee so that I could polish her toes, the sole of the flip flop bent backwards & that just did them in. It would be kind of like bending the binding of a book backwards (say that 5 times fast), so the hard, old foam/rubber just broke apart.

She actually made it home without messing up her polish, which was another amazing thing unto itself. She was a good sport & we joked for months about her “Heels of Time”!  So far this was the ONLY instance when a clients foot wear disintegrated before my very eyes!

Heels of Time photo copy