This week, I scheduled and received a gel manicure all by myself. I received my very first manicure ever at about age 24. I have only had about two or three in my life, and I have never gone alone, or made the appointments. Getting a manicure shouldn’t fill me with anxiety, but it totally does. I chose a local salon that had been recommended to me. However, from the moment I walked in, I felt more like an annoyance than anything. I wasn’t sure what to expect since it had been so long since I had a manicure, and I fear making small talk with strangers. In addition to those irrational fears and discomforts, the clientele was all white females, and the employees were all predominately Asian men. I have no issue with humans of different races, although, I am exceedingly uncomfortable in taking part in any service where the staff and the customers all consist of two distinct ethnicities. Is that a form of racism, that it makes me uncomfortable? I don’t think so, but I have no idea. Racism can be tricky like that.
Anyway, after that random thought tangent into the potential racism in daily activities–in the end I was very happy with my nails, the man did well, and did seem a bit friendlier by the end of my service. I’m not sure if I would go back, or recommend that place to a friend. Perhaps, I would have felt far more at ease had I gone with a friend? I don’t know. But I do know, I did something out of my comfort zone this week, and have fun nails to show for it.