Salon Gossip

As a nail tech, my station at the salon isn't just a place for manicures; it’s a high-stakes confessional. My name is Stan, and while I’m meticulously sculpting acrylics or perfecting a gel ombré, I am being bombarded with the wildest "tea" imaginable. From secret workplace affairs to family feuds that sound like daytime soap operas, my clients hold nothing back once the hand soak begins.

The irony? The stories are so unhinged that my brain actually short-circuits. Last Tuesday, a regular spent two hours detailing how she found out her boyfriend was leading a double life in another city. By the time I was applying the top coat, I was so focused on the precision of my brushwork and the sheer absurdity of her tale that the details started evaporating.

I’ll see her next month and have to play it cool, nodding along while desperately trying to remember if it was a secret wife or a secret yacht. I’m out here creating masterpieces on ten tiny canvases, but my mind is a sieve for drama. I’m just working through the madness, one cuticle at a time.