Want a cash cow business in time of economic strife?
Open a nail salon. Even as the price of consumer goods rise and homes sell less quickly in a bloated, foreclosed market, the Asian/Korean/Thai ladies are raking in the yen. Drove in a golden triangle of north Denver this afternoon in search of a strip mall hot hand soak and cherry-blossomed scented foot love. Starlight Nails, 45 minute wait. Venus Nails, “You come back at 5.” It was 3:30.
My cuticles needed tending now, a girl ritual to close the “Best Weekend Ever (so far) - 2009 Version.” The good times took root Thursday night and dinner at a cool, urban, organic, grow-our-own restaurant (a converted gas station) in a cool, urban, organic boutique neighborhood. The company, engaging and warmly smiling once nerves passed and holding my hand on the walk to the car after. We meet up again Friday for food (it’s always eating in the beginning, isn’t it?) He picked me up at my door, took me to Old Towne and a music club / art venue / pizzeria where the servers are tattooed rockabilly types and we ate warm hummus scooped up in toasty herbed flatbread. The band was impressive and fun, the company attentive and comfortable, the kind that wraps a free arm around the backside of your chair and sits close. He left the next morning.
Saturday solo shopping for scented candles. A stop at Godiva gave flavor to another day of indulgence, a strawberry-white chocolate truffle. Not candy, but a fresh swirl of berry puree ensconced in a smooth, thick shell. I dawdled, peeked into windows, stopped at Macys for a steal of a sundress I’d been stalking. Paid $50 less than when I first tried it on at the beginning of summer; perfect for a slow stroll through a mid-season Farmers Market. Riesling brought good rest, deep sleep and plenty of it.
Which brings us to today, Sunday. The usual - yoga and weekly groceries - but I hadn’t yet squeezed in a mani-pedi, the cherry topper to a spectacular girl weekend. I would not relent. Third and final stop, the shop near my gym. The shop with the friendliest staff and oldest tabloids. And the shop that, without fail, leaves bubbles in my shiny new topcoat.
I got the bubbles and am unsure why my OPI Royal Rajah Ruby glints mostly deep purple. Still, mission accomplished, the heels soft and smooth and kissable. Men must think us crazy to plunk down $40 for service we can do at home. I find it little nutty too, each and every month I step in a shop swirling with the scent of acrylic nail dust (cranberry and peppermint). But I keep returning.
The one thing I still craved as the weekend ran down, closing in on Monday, was a wet, pink cheeseburger. A classic with crispy bacon and extra fries sprinkled with black pepper then dunked in ranch. Chewed it in hearty bites and took two napkins to wipe my mouth.
Why not? Got everything else I could have wanted this weekend.