Damn.

It's not clear to me why the employees of nail salons love to ruin my day. But they do.

I truly thought the worst question I would ever get would be the time I walked in and the manager of Rafael's asked if I was there to have my lip waxed. Um, no, I was not. But of course I will now always wonder if I should...

But apparently there is a worse question to ask. "Are you pregnant?" Yes, got that one last night at the Flour Bluffs Nailtime. So while my hands and feet look lovely for my trip to Vegas this weekend, I'm not sure I'll be able to enjoy it that much.

Can't they get the memo that I go to them to feel better about myself? Do I have to go somewhere expensive just to avoid humiliation and self-loathing? And why do I keep paying them? I mean seriously, given the amount of abuse I took from the women at Big Apple Salon, they should have been dressed as domenatrices.

And yet... I keep coming back for more.