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Short Escape

A couple of days before J returned to college after winter break, we went to the nail salon together as a treat. Its been a strange few years with the pandemic and I was not even sure I would see her during break with the rapidly evolving travel guidelines. But we did get to meet and this felt like a nice way to bookend her visit - it would be the first time for us too. The nail salon experience felt surreal - the intense focus on nails for an hour to the exclusion of everything in the world. The place was quiet except for a some soft background music and the sound of an indoor waterfall. Pedicure clients were all on their phones. The manicure ones maintained silence as they observed their nails being worked on. 

The age range of clientele at the shop ranged from teen to post-retirement - this might have been everyone's short escape from the real world of empty grocery shelves, shoveling snow, being stuck in traffic, getting hit with the virus or having someone at home self-isolating,  without power after the winter storm, unsure of what's round the corner and so on. Here it was okay to focus on getting your nails painted the perfect shade of fuchsia as if nothing else existed or mattered. 

Coming out the salon into a blast of cold air was like a reality check. There is only so long escapism can work. For me the "escape" itself was fairly stressful. Having a young kid my daughter's age work on my feet made me intensely uncomfortable - something about it felt deeply wrong and I simply could not relax. I was glad when it was over I could get back to the real world where I generally fend for myself and don't have anyone laboring over my hands and feet. Going to a nail salon as it turns out is not all fun and games. 

The $10 manicure is the equivalent of supermarket sushi or high-fashion knockoffs at H&M: It only feels luxurious until you consider what you’ve really purchased. 

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