No one wrote the roadmap for 20-23 years of age. So, there are essentially no rules. Every post-adolescent I know walks around like they were just released from house arrest. The beeping ankle bracelet is off and we are allowed to walk to Starbucks (way too often) because who the hell is gonna stop us? Our parents live at least 30 miles away and even if they were close by..we are legally free..
Because there are no rules, there are also no first warnings. There is no one to say “hey Abb, maybe you should do your laundry because going commando to an in-person lecture is wildly inappropriate!” There is no one to explain how W-4s work. We have to make our own doctor’s appointments. I can’t even spell amoxicillin, I had to Google that while I was on hold!
I recently started buying myself manicures. I thought that was a good idea. In December of last year I got my first set of glorious acrylic nails. They were so goddamn shiny! But you can’t just go once! It costs so much money to get them filled. My nail tech Lilly loves to ask me about my love life. Lilly inquires about my personal life as she scrapes off my cuticles, we have fun. Because nail care is not covered by insurance, my bank account runs thin like my nail beds. But it’s not a major loss because Lilly can remind you that I’m not spending that money on dating.
One morning in March, I realized I was in need of an acrylic fill real bad. I decided to throw all other responsibilities out the window and go see Lilly. To my great surprise, Lilly had the day off, so they put me with another nail technician. Immediately this woman was showing major red flags. However, she told me that she had been in the business for 8 years, so who was I to judge her technique? She made my cuticle bleed on 4 different fingers. I winced as she covered my open flesh with nail glue to stop the bleeding. She then gave me one of the worst manicures of my life. I walked home in a seething rage. I just kept thinking, “why the hell did I just spend so much money on this absolute mess?!”
The next day, I went back to the salon and Lilly kindly fixed my nails for free. She asked me who did my nails the day before and I reluctantly named the culprit. I told Lilly that the nail tech said she had 8 years of experience.
Lilly looked at me and replied, “Honey, she lies.”