The Nail Salon

I feel so. much. better. than I did yesterday. I hung out around home yesterday afternoon, watched the Crimson Tide win the BCS Championship last night, got some good sleep, and saw my family safely off this morning. On top of all of that, I finally got my nails done, and I can't begin to describe what a world of difference a fresh fill-in makes.

I go to the same place every time I get my nails done, and the guy who did them today is one of my favorite nail techs. He's one that actually likes to hold a conversation and he's very friendly and funny, so having him do my nails is always a pleasant experience. Today, as soon as I sat down in his chair, he pointed out that the song playing on the radio, Keith Urban's "I Want to Kiss a Girl," always reminds him of The Little Mermaid when Sebastian sings "Kiss the Girl." Now, that's right up my alley! We talked about Disney movies, laughed about how we drag our significant others to movies they hate and how they do the same to us, and complained about how much we both dislike Sex and the City.

Right about then, he was buffing my pinky nail when he commented, "You have a very small pinky, like a child's." I laughed and said yeah, and then sneakily proceeded to investigate his pinky. I mean, what would you do? That's when I saw it. His pinky. Or what was left of it. The whole top joint was gone. Missing. Not there. No explanation. No warning. No "Dear John" letter or anything. I was so taken aback that I couldn't speak. I couldn't do anything but stare at his pinky. How do you pick up a conversation when you know half of someone's pinky is missing?

After a minute or two of silence, he pointed out that the song playing on the radio, "Pretty Woman," always reminded him of hookers. I laughed and everything went back to normal. I realized, hey, just because someone is missing part of his pinky it doesn't mean he's any different than me. I mean, I have freakishly small pinkies... so we're actually very similar. I bonded with this near stranger at the nail salon and he doesn't even know it.

I came home and repeated this story to my husband who proceeded to say, "Yeah, and your pinkies curve too."

Thanks, honey. Thanks.