walks into the nail salon I use.
I'm waiting to get my eyebrows waxed (the caveman look is soooo out, you know!). I've already had my manicure and pedicure, and am just sitting next to one of the stations, the very one she sits down at.
Now, she has some massively long claws, and is apparently a frequent customer, since Patrick, the nail guy, didn't even ask what she wanted, just started going to town with the dremel.
Me being me, I just ask what comes to mind, namely wasn't it difficult to do things with such long fingernails.
Little Old Lady (with a British accent): Oh, no! I've had these all my life, and wouldn't know how to do anything without them.
Me, showing off my manicured, yet brutally short fingernails: I'm a massage therapist and can't have long fingernails. Can't hurt the clients, you know!
L.O.L.: Of course! But my husband certainly likes MY nails on his back!
Me, with VERY disturbing images now seared into my brain: Gulp!
Thankfully Amanda called me back for my wax at this point, since I had no clue what to say, except maybe "Too much information!"