The Texas Chainsaw Manicure.

The Texas Chainsaw Manicure

I had the strangest experience this week on the way to work.  I was on my way into he office and stopped at my favorite sandwich maker to pick up a something light for lunch.

I love to wear a hat on sunny days like the ones we’ve been enjoying in Vancouver recently. As a result I had on my nice new black fedora. It’s a wide brimmed hat and really quite lovely. I’d done my morning yoga with Sebastian, and then enjoyed a warm shower. I had not managed to dry my hair, being in a rush to get to the office for a meeting. As I’d left the house I knew I had wet hair tumbling over my shoulders, and I put on my nice new black hat.

I was really quite pleased by the look of it, and with my black coat and white blouse I felt I looked rather sharp. The nice young man behind the counter at the store seemed quite happy to chat to me as he made my sandwich, and I felt quite coy, I must say. I think I was even playing with my hair a little, twisting it around my finger as I do when I’m a little nervous. It was therefore a surprise when, after he’d handed me my nicely made Reuben sandwich ( https://natashaskitchen.com/reuben-sandwich/ ), just as I was leaving the store the nice young man behind the counter gave me the sweetest of smiles, which I returned, and then he said “Shalom.”

You wouldn’t think I would be confused with a member of the Hasidic Jewish community.

It wasn’t until I was half way down the street, passing a synagogue, that I caught sight of my reflection and realised, my chatty young friend at the sandwich store must have mistaken me for someone in the Hasidic Jewish community. I was torn between rushing back to explain that I’m not of that particular spiritual persuasion and getting to my meeting. After a moment’s thought I decided I’d wait till next time I passed the sandwich place, and then I’d order some ham sandwiches. I’m sure he’ll work it out in the end.

In the office I loaded up on coffee, in my “You don’t have to be a crossdressing account executive to work here, but it helps!” coffee mug, and then went into my meeting. I was so pleased when after the meeting I got a call from Rainbow, who is visiting on leave from her job at the lighthouse – you may remember she got a job after a little mix up – and we decided to go to the nail salon together. I recommend this to all my members, and it’s also a great way to connect with a girl friend. What could be nicer than going out to get your nails done together. I decided to go to Rainbow’s usual nail salon, rather than my own, as she supports a business which has a policy of employing seniors. How very thoughtful, I thought.

Now, as you know I am most sensitive to the feelings of those around me.  I connect with people, you see. I suppose it’s just my own natural empathy. A gift.  How it was that I managed to find myself having my nails painted with the only nail tech I’ve ever met who I swear had Parkinson’s disease, I don’t know. Either that or they were suffering withdrawal symptoms from something. Maybe it’s the fumes from all those chemicals.

“They’re going to look lovely,” she croaked in a broad southern drawl as she shakily painted another toe.

So, tonight I am removing the nail polish from my toes. That lovely shade of scarlet looks more like a nasty accident involving a chainsaw and a particularly slippery hand grip. Of course, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Anyway, if you’ve not painted your toes lately perhaps it’s time. Feel free to send me a pic to post on the site.

😊

Fiona

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