| rev:text
| - Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!
I was in dire need of a fill in on my only night off work one week and couldn't make it to any of my usual favorite nail salons after running errands all day. Q Nails happened to be the only shop convenient to my area that was open later. You know how in horror movies the one lit up house on a darkened street is the exact one you shouldn't go into? I guess that stands for nail salons too.
Q Nails has that kind of dismal, 90s strip mall vibe inside. Dated stock photos lined up on otherwise unpainted walls, basic cable flickering in and out on the overhead television, no music, loud, rows of clearly overworked technicians. Bummer. I'm the kind of girl who can get past all that, but when I was called over (okay, hollered at) to sit at a table, I noticed the kind of worn, not-so-sparkling appearance of the entire place. I told myself it was okay - just a fill in, right?
And so it seemed. Until the next night when three of my nails broke - yes, THREE. What was I doing to damage a fresh fill in so swiftly? Clapping. At an all ages concert. I'd hate to see the state my claws would've been in if I was actually rowdy. When I finally went to one of my regular salons, the technician actually asked where I'd gotten it done and shook her head.
Do yourself and go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Like the Wal-Mart nail salon is probably cleaner and better quality. But don't quote me on that, I'm the novice who wandered into the Last Nail Salon on the Left despite fellow Yelper's warnnings!
|