Tina: You want flag?
Me: Excuse me?
Tina: We do flag.
Me: What? I don’t understand.
Tina: On you toes? You want flag? Red and blue?
Me: Do I want a flag painted on my toes?
Ok by now these people should know I don’t do stars or flowers or smiley faces or anything on my toes. I’m boring.
Tina: We do for Forf of July.
Me: No no no. Just stick to the plain color. No decoration.
Tina looked sad. I hate to disappoint. But not bad enough to have striped toes for my birthday…
About this time a girl came rushing into the salon which instantly cheered them. A new customer! Yippee. Maybe she would want the flag.
She was directed to the spa chair next to me where she immediate set up shop. Literally. Very, very, important and busy this one.
I wanted to smack her. I knew right off she would not want the flag. Relax already. We are getting our toes done.
Relaxing wasn’t in her nature. She was tense and pinched, her voice clipped. Before her old polish was removed, she made two cell phone calls, speaking instructions hastily, very to-the-point. She left messages both times as I’m certain her calls were being screened.
Kim: You want manicure too?
VeryBusyPerson: No. No time. Just a pedicure. Thank you.
Kim: Yes, ok.
What!? My mouth gaped I’m sure. What do you mean Yes, Ok. You people are going to let a captive manicure walk out the door? What about the flag? Aren’t you gonna ask if she wants a flag!
Suddenly with this VeryImportantOne, the salon ladies had developed a filter. They never badgered her, never questioned her lack of a manicure or even offered a flag.
Maybe they assume a rude person is unpatriotic?
I looked over and she had her day planner spread across her lap. Every fifteen minutes was filled with an important meeting, the book stuffed with papers. I almost said, you know there’s a calendar on your iPhone, but I thought better of it. Somehow I think she likes toting around a big King James-looking calendar.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the foot massage. The salon atmosphere was completely different today. Phantom of the Opera played. Not the typical salon soundtrack. Perhaps Ms. Business Girl ordered this serious music in advance.
Suddenly I hear tap tap tap peck peck taptaptaptap pop pop pop pop tap. Very Very rapid fire typing sounding like a morse code machine. This chick is balancing a previously unseen laptop on her thighs while getting a pedicure. A very accomplished typist which I admire, but as she types a fortissimo spreadsheet I want to scream. Her cell phone text messages continue to roll in, constantly beeping.
The UPS man walked in with a delivery. If the package was for my spa mate I would truly be impressed…
I left happy and secure with the knowledge that even at my peak, raising kids, working 40 hours, shuttling back and forth to games and school functions, I was NEVER that busy and important. And I’m proud to be boring and patriotic without having stars and stripes on my toes.
Superwoman, Alicia Keys
Ice Ice Baby, Vanilla Ice