Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the shredded manicure for which I dang near died yesterday:
Worth the swig of acetone, I say... maybe two.
Those fingers are ready to come out and play tonight... although I might not.
I heard it's Latin Night at Firefly* (I swear... each time I hear someone call it "Fireflies" I feel like doing the world a favor and ripping that person's tongue out. LEARN HOW TO READ, RETARD! Since when does an asterisk make a sound?!), and sadly for me, that's where this friend of mine decided to throw her birthday party.
Oh my gosh... a Latin Night at a Tapas bar? How odd!
Yes, I'm Mexican... but I HATE being surrounded by latinos. Well... I don't hate hate, but I don't exactly enjoy it. I always end up in a terrible mood.
The men tend to be pushy and rarely understand no means NO. They're pretty freakin' persistent.
The girls are catty, and there are over a dozen things I'd rather be doing (like washing dirty dishes with my own tongue) than giving catty girls any more fodder. Also, since I AM a hot-blooded Latina, the moment one of these cats tries messing with me or my loved ones I don't respond with equal cattiness, I go straight for the jugular and I DO fight.
Sigh.
Hooray for tonight.
Funny note:
I had to get my eyebrows threaded today. I ended up going later than usual because my mom has a knack for driving my car instead of hers (she doesn't want her Lexus to get dinged up--she's a TERRIBLE driver-- so she drives my poor thing. Bambi gets all the abuse from the runaway shopping carts and asshole passengers who open their car doors too wide--you have NO idea how hard I fight the urge to stab those imbeciles. Each time I see a new dent on my vehicle feels like a screwdriver is getting shoved transversely through my throat). I had to wait for her to return home at two in the afternoon.
Once I got to the eyebrow place, the wait was LONG. Supposedly, it was going to take me half an hour before getting the work done (it actually took 55 minutes), so I had to make myself confortable.
I took my place on the furthest chair available, and I began tweeting like a teenager (Don't believe me? Look! Those are too many tweets for such a short time span. All I needed to do was mention what I was hungry for-- The Cupcakery's "Trip to Graceland" cupcake, if you were wondering. I've been dying to taste it for the last month. It's torture).
I noticed an older asian lady kept giving me the evil eye (you see, the seats are arranged so that two rows are on the left side and two rows are at the right. The sides face each other, so often times, there's that awkward eye-contact-with-a-stranger moment)... but since I'm respectful of people, I didn't care and kept tweeting with reckless abandon.
Suddenly, the body of a gentleman standing up took my attention from my phone.
It was the old lady's husband. She was sort-of screaming at him in Mandarin and he was just bowing his head. He then took the seat directly behind her, completely out of my sight. When I noticed that, I saw the old lady stare me right in the chest, then look me up and down.
WTF? Calm down, lady! There isn't much I can do about these girls. I just developed this way.
I felt self-conscious and lifted my shirt's collar as far up as possible.
Way to make me feel dirty.
But I did laugh at the thought of that poor man getting scolded in public for looking at other girls' racks. And yes, the lady saw me smirk.
For shame, men! Not in front of your ladies! And in a beauty salon? Rub one out before heading out with your lady... you'll do us all a favor.
 |
| Since I can't flick (flip?) off the camera... |
Those fingers are ready to come out and play tonight... although I might not.
I heard it's Latin Night at Firefly* (I swear... each time I hear someone call it "Fireflies" I feel like doing the world a favor and ripping that person's tongue out. LEARN HOW TO READ, RETARD! Since when does an asterisk make a sound?!), and sadly for me, that's where this friend of mine decided to throw her birthday party.
Oh my gosh... a Latin Night at a Tapas bar? How odd!
Yes, I'm Mexican... but I HATE being surrounded by latinos. Well... I don't hate hate, but I don't exactly enjoy it. I always end up in a terrible mood.
The men tend to be pushy and rarely understand no means NO. They're pretty freakin' persistent.
The girls are catty, and there are over a dozen things I'd rather be doing (like washing dirty dishes with my own tongue) than giving catty girls any more fodder. Also, since I AM a hot-blooded Latina, the moment one of these cats tries messing with me or my loved ones I don't respond with equal cattiness, I go straight for the jugular and I DO fight.
Sigh.
Hooray for tonight.
Funny note:
I had to get my eyebrows threaded today. I ended up going later than usual because my mom has a knack for driving my car instead of hers (she doesn't want her Lexus to get dinged up--she's a TERRIBLE driver-- so she drives my poor thing. Bambi gets all the abuse from the runaway shopping carts and asshole passengers who open their car doors too wide--you have NO idea how hard I fight the urge to stab those imbeciles. Each time I see a new dent on my vehicle feels like a screwdriver is getting shoved transversely through my throat). I had to wait for her to return home at two in the afternoon.
Once I got to the eyebrow place, the wait was LONG. Supposedly, it was going to take me half an hour before getting the work done (it actually took 55 minutes), so I had to make myself confortable.
I took my place on the furthest chair available, and I began tweeting like a teenager (Don't believe me? Look! Those are too many tweets for such a short time span. All I needed to do was mention what I was hungry for-- The Cupcakery's "Trip to Graceland" cupcake, if you were wondering. I've been dying to taste it for the last month. It's torture).
I noticed an older asian lady kept giving me the evil eye (you see, the seats are arranged so that two rows are on the left side and two rows are at the right. The sides face each other, so often times, there's that awkward eye-contact-with-a-stranger moment)... but since I'm respectful of people, I didn't care and kept tweeting with reckless abandon.
Suddenly, the body of a gentleman standing up took my attention from my phone.
It was the old lady's husband. She was sort-of screaming at him in Mandarin and he was just bowing his head. He then took the seat directly behind her, completely out of my sight. When I noticed that, I saw the old lady stare me right in the chest, then look me up and down.
WTF? Calm down, lady! There isn't much I can do about these girls. I just developed this way.
I felt self-conscious and lifted my shirt's collar as far up as possible.
Way to make me feel dirty.
But I did laugh at the thought of that poor man getting scolded in public for looking at other girls' racks. And yes, the lady saw me smirk.
For shame, men! Not in front of your ladies! And in a beauty salon? Rub one out before heading out with your lady... you'll do us all a favor.
No comments:
Post a Comment