Thursday, April 7, 2011

Eleventh Commandment

Because I was in the neighborhood, I dashed into Walmart to pick up some flannel to make a blanket for a friend's soon-to-arrive baby.  As I passed the nail salon, I thought, "I have the time today to have my nails done."  Yes, I know that you just received an almost electrical shock through your system, knowing how badly I hate to sit hand-in-hand with a stranger while he inflicts both physical and psychological pain.  You want to shout, "Abort!  Abort mission!"  If only you'd been there for me....

However, after the first mind-numbing hour, fingers submerged in a bowl of straight acetone that was being absorbed directly into my bloodstream, I began to marvel at the circus of humanity that exits the checkout lines at Walmart.  Before these observations, I had also thought, "I'll stop in at the hair salon to have my hair trimmed since I'm in the beautifying mood." 

Luckily, somewhere in my subconscience, I heard my own, "Abort mission!" cry, and heeded the warning.  As I sat and watched, I became particularly aware of bizarre hair styles, or lack of style.  The pony wad is a common look for both genders, young and old.

After 90 minutes and four bloody cuticles, the frantic need to flee won out and I heard myself cheerily say, "Oh, that's okay, I don't need to let them dry.  I'll be careful," as I flung the cash at my tormentor.  Merging hurridly with the exit crowd, now with one smudged nail, I remembered words of wisdom from my dad as he observed similar models of humanity....








"If the Lord saw that one, there'd be another commandment."

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