Adult Trauma Wednesday

In order to get me out of the house to organize for the surprise party, my BFF, Fingerbang, took me out for an afternoon of manicures and pedicures.

They started on my feet, which was awesome 'cause I got to sit, soak my feet, and have my back and neck massaged by the sorta-pervy looking chair. The one downside is they didn't have the latest copy of the bible. Sigh.

Once my toes were all fresh n' fancy, we moved to the manicure table. Fingerbang had a bit of a headstart so I was sitting chatting with her while awaiting my manicurist's arrival at my table. She soon sat across from me and I continued chatting with FB (regaling her with some hilarious story, I'm sure). Suddenly, FB's jaw dropped, like, to the ground while watching my manicure girl. I was suddenly frightened to look as the fear and horror in her eyes was real, yo. Then, I caught a glimse out of the corner of my eye.

Bitch was picking her nose.

Like, going to town on her nostril. Knuckle deep. I immediately looked to the window as I felt a burst of laughter building. FB looked the other way as she now had tears streaming down her face. I was frozen. Should I say something? What could I say? "Bitch, go wash your nasty finger"? I probably should have, but I was feeling weak. Laughter suppression and turning thirty will do that to a girl. So I received a full manicure from a nosepicker. Needless to say, I washed my hands asap.

While waiting for our nails to dry, we then spotted the receptionist picking her nose! No lie. FB actually locked eyes with her and she didn't turn away or stop. Heffa had absolutely no shame.

The real question now, of course, is will we return to the shop? I mean, I now realize they're a bunch of nosepickers and all, but they really do wonders with your cuticles.