As many people prepare for a night of champagne and fireworks, I have taken a vow to take care of more fundamental necessities to bring in the new year. A good mani/pedi. Never it let the new year catch me with parched cuticles or feet that look like a Clydesdale. So I started the last day of this year at my usual salon, TikTak Nail Shak. Now this is an interesting place on any given day, much less the all time party like it's 1999 opportunity that is New Year's Eve.
First of all, the owners of the TikTak are two Vietnamese men: DongCho dba Billy, and his associate Van Neip dba Bing. Billy and Bingrun a tight ship where no matter what service you need, they can accomodate in "15 minutes". These guys are there to make sure you are taken care of in ways you didn't know you needed. You think you need only a pedi? Billy quizzes " you need eyebrow waxed?." You hadn't planned on this, so why does Bing think " you lip for sure need wax. And sideburn" makes more sense and is a distraction to the lack of attention to that eyebrow? Also, as I try to be cool but check if I really do have sideburn(s) I start worrying that I have become JoJo the DogFaced Boy and no one in my family has had the guts to tell me.My best friend, LaLa, has stopped visiting Billy and Bing because they are giving her a complex about being a hairy faced freak. Just as I get ready to go for the wax, I'm instructed to go to #5 for "good job". Am I being considered for employment here or am I to expect whoever has this gig now will do a good job. My confusion only gets weirder when a smiling lady with an upside down name tag seats me in the big pedi chair and cranks the massage roller up to full blast. I read, upside down, that my lady's name is Diane. I say "Diane, could you turn this down a little?" She doesn't move an inch from sorting out all sort of lotions and potions to prepare for my color "I'm Really Not A Waitress Red". I clear my throat, as I call out to Diane again. She looks up at me and asked what I said. I said" Diane, could you turn this down". Looking confused she says" Who you say?" I pointed to the upside down Diane tag and repeat "Diane". She gave me a very sad, heartfelt look and confessed " My name Tammy. 14 years I'm Tammy. I come here and they already have Tammy. so I now Dan." Dan? I slowly say DIANE? Tammy dba Diane, repeats after me and then says" that how you say it? Well, that's my name. They already have name tag".
The TikTak boys really know how to motivate and make a new employee feel like they have been part of the team forever. You assume the identity of the former employee and it SOUNDS like you've been here forever. Poor Tammy/Diane.
Generally things are quiet when I'm at the TikTak. Today was crazy. Drunk crazy, actually. A couple of party girls showed up. Already throwing back a little Screwdriver action prior to 10am and getting kinda loud. They had been on the beauty quest early and one had experienced a coloration issue at the spray tan booth. Her toes were tanned a persimmon shade which she didn't seem to object to but the problem was the area BETWEEN the piggies. Since they remained white, she felt it made her zebra striped toepolish look TACKY. OMG. She didn't want the tan scrubbed off because she "kinda liked the color". No, she wanted the toes redone so they would stand out MORE, taking the scrutiny away from the virgin toe flesh. Tammy/Diane was busy with me so told her "wait 5 minutes" ( now I was getting the deluxe pedi plus a mani and we had about 45 minutes to get it done). The drunk lady just started getting louder and said she would go next door and get some fake eyelashes put on. Clearly she was leaving nothing to chance on her quest for perfection. On the way out, the entire salon was able to hear her cell phone attempts at finding her boyfriend (let's just say she hadn't been a "girl" since the Nixon administration). When he failed to be raised, she left a You Light Up My Life message, hung up and called her husband about doing right by her on this divorce settlement "cause you know I been good to ya." Of this , I have not doubt.
Tammy/Diane looked like a NASA engineer responsible for the tiles on the shuttle as she went into overdrive on me. In what seemed like no time, DrunkLady comes back and tells Tammy/Diane she doesn't mind waiting but would really appreciate it if TammyD would allow her to spray this silver glitter spray in her hair since she had just gotten it at the Beauty Supply and didn't want to risk messing up her own hair.She was on a time line for getting fixed up. Nothing should be left to chance and since TammyD clearly appeared to need something to perk up her do, this was a clear win/win.
TammyD went deaf for a little while until one of her counterparts narc'd her out in Vietnamese and she had to sheepishly ask DrunkLady to please not spray her because she wasn't allowed to work with silver hair. Now the TikTak Boys have regained my respect in preparing a policy against wearing silver hair to work.I thought I was being pre-emptive with putting in a policy against stretch pants with your scrub top. Clearly, these guys are straight out of a top notch MBA program.
Lucky for me, TammyD, and the rest of the TikTak , the liquor store is a couple of doors down and DrunkLady left to get something "classy" for the midnight toast.
Just as I think I can finish my "me time" in peace, some redneck guy shows up with his girlfriend. As she is getting her SolarNails started he decides that he is secure enough in his manhood to get a pedicure. Oh great. Suddenly the TikTak Boys have the plasma turned to ESPN so MetroJethro can make all the women in the salon KNOW that he IS THE MAN. A complete waste of effort since all this guy wanted to do was talk paint colors and accent walls across the salon from talon-tipped squeeze.
I count myself fortunate that as the ball drops and the new decade comes in, I will be snug in my bed. No cruel shoes tonight, just socks and moisturizer. A happy home, a husband who loves me, siblings who are save, parents who are close. And knowing I will never have to pose as Diane.
Happy New Year.
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