... and it was not me
I went to my usual nail salon today for a mani pedi. Now, I don't splurge on much, but I do lavish in my mani/pedis. After a long week, they are my treat. So I cozy up into my chair, turn on the massage thingy (mmmmmmm), open up Glamour magazine, and get ready to tune out the world, when right next to me I hear, "What do you MEAN I have to wait???"
Ugh.
There stands an overly tanned woman with a puss on her face next to who I later learned were her sister and mother. The nail tech replies, "Well, I'll have three girls free for you in about 5 minutes. I promise it won't be long." The loud girl sighs obnoxiously and adds, "FINE." Thinking the drama was over, I try to go back to the article I was reading. A few minutes later I hear, "No, we need three chairs TOGETHER. This is my mother and my sister. We HAVE to get done together." Looking to my left, I see that there are two chairs empty next to me, and the third was two seats over to my right. Myself and another woman were clearly interfering with family bonding or something. I was just about to open my mouth and offer to move down to the other empty seat, as I was only soaking at this point and hadn't begun the pedi, when the woman says, "You don't understand. I'm getting married TOMORROW. I'm THE BRIDE." She said this with such entitlement that I almost snorted out loud.
The story continues... the mother takes the single seat and lets the sisters sit together. The whole time I am subject to listening to, "No, don't file that way. More lotion. Less oil... blah blah blah." At one point she takes out her phone to call what I only assume to be some poor bridesmaid and spends 10 minutes first complaining about the "terrible" pedicure and then about the "hideous centerpieces" that she "demanded be changed, no matter how late 'you people' need to stay here tonight." When it came time to get her nail polish, as condescending as she could manage, she tells the nail tech, "marshmellow white FIRST. THEN paint the french tips. Snow white goes OVER IT, then the top coat. Do you understand me? MARSHMELLOW THEN SNOW WHITE!"
On the way out, the sister paid for herself and the bride, and upon finding out that the french tips costed $3 more than a regular pedicure, she slammed- yes slammed- her credit card on the counter and said, "We are NEVER COMING HERE AGAIN!"
You can't make this stuff up, folks! Let's all grab ahold of the real purpose of our wedding day and not lose sight of it and make it about our french tips and the poor nail techs, okay?
I'm also very glad to not be ANYTHING like this bridezilla!