Who does this lady think she is?

Today I had some time to kill after work, before I made my male "friend" my homemade Eggplant Parmigiana. What do I do when I have a few hours to kill and have been having particularly "difficult" hair days lately? I do what every Wanton Hussy does...

I went and bought hair dye and whitening strips for my teeth. I also got my hair cut, had my nails done, and my toesies painted. Oh yeah. I went all out.

I have gone to the same nail salon for the last year now because they are close, affordable and I love my Vietnamese lady, "Lisa." She tells me about living in Vietnam, and how she met her husband, and good local "Pho," Vietnamese noodle soup places. In return, I tell her about guys I am dating, guys I am not dating and such.

I have not gone into detail as to the dynamic of where I live, or what being a born and raised "Orange Countian" means to me. But an experience I had today real does an excellent job of summarizing what living in Orange County entails.

I always make appointments to get my nails done because I want to ensure that Lisa will be the one performing nail beautification, seeing as how she is the best at what she does. Not everyone is as good at planning ahead as I am, and consequently attempt to live there lives through a series of "walk-in" appointments. While enjoying my hour o' primp, I listen to what is going on around me because there is SO MUCH DRAMA AT A NAIL SALON.

The following is a true event. There are no actors. What you see is real and should not be taken lightly. Please sit down before reading the following.

Like I said, many people attempt to walk-in to the crowded nail salon I frequent, and expect immediate service, response and gratitude. Like the woman today. The salon was crazy busy from some odd reason today. Usually you are immediately seated, but today people were expected to patiently wait for on the upwards of five to ten minutes. An abomination, I know. A lady, wait, lady implies class. A woman walks in and says, "I need to get my nails done. How long is the wait? Five minutes?"

I know it sounds like I am making a mountain out of a mole hill here, but if you heard how she said it. She wasn't asking, "Five minutes?" She was saying, "Five minutes." As if anything other than that as a response was unacceptable. Either way, she was rude.

As I was leaving, I noticed her "holier than thou" behavior again. She was sitting in a spa pedicure chair, where you soak your feet and the chair massages you and heats up. Very posh. Very "O.C." Mind you, it was Six o' Clock on a cloudy evening. And this woman was wearing her sunglasses inside. Like she was some sort of celebrity. I hate to admit it, but I know a celebrity when I see one, and I did not recognize this woman. She was wearing a normal, middle-age woman looking dress and a tacky shawl draped around her shoulders. Very dramatic.

Folks, she was wearing sunglasses... INSIDE! There are only a few occurrences when sunglasses indoors are acceptable. 1) When you have your eyes dilated and if you have too much sun exposure it burns your retinas and 2) When you drink too much and abandon a "70's bowling party" and are still in your 70's costume, including your amazing Aviator sunglasses, and are continuing the party at your local dive bar. I have been present at both situations, which is why those are the only two occurrences I could think of as to who, what, when, where, why, it would be okay.

Maybe I should just keep these things to myself. But I...just...can't...do...it. Too.....much......funny.....stuff....
Must....fight....against....wanting.....to......talk.....shit.......
No....must....tell...world....