Over the weekend, sabominator and I loosed our quintessentially female sides and made a Sunday morning of brunch, pedicures, and shopping while our men went junk-hunting at the MIT flea. Not being particularly “girly”, I can say that it was secretly thrilling for me to bitch about men while browsing tank tops at the Gap with my freshly, pink-ly painted toes. Unfortunately, I can’t keep my inner loser under wraps for long, and my true nature was outed by the man with long fingernails who owns the nail salon.
As anyone who knows me is aware, I leave the tags on my clothes. Sometimes this is a utilitarian feat; it being entirely possible to wear a shirt a couple times before returning it to Marshall’s. Sometimes I simply forget to remove the tag, which can often happen after several tag-on wearings. And sometimes, just SOMETIMES, i like the way the tag looks. And I like the way the tag looks on my Campers. I’ve been wearing the Campers, tag-on, for a week now, and I find it gives me a certain satisfaction to look down and see that cute spherical cut of cardboard laying cozily atop my toes. I’ve become attached! So you can understand why, when the pedicure-man came at me with a pair of clippers and every intention of REMOVING MY TAG, i was forced to shriek, giggle, and politely decline. And do you know what he did? DO YOU KNOW????
He LAUGHED at me! He laughed like it was NOT NORMAL to keep the tags on your shoes! and then I looked over at Sabominator, and SHE WAS LAUGHING TOO! I was the laughingstock of the nail salon! I mean, seriously, if you spent seventy dollars on what is essentially a pair of glorified flip-flops, wouldn’t you want to keep the brand-name on too?