Size Matters

Having made the appointment for the manicure/pedicure just the day before, I wasn’t able to get any of the nail technicians I’d previously experienced.

They were all booked.

I ended up with two older ladies, and they were rough.

The older nail technicians tend to be no-nonsense heavy handed, while the younger girls are gentle.

In the final analysis, the pedicurist did a great job so, rough as she is, I’d request her in the future.

However, the manicurist did less than an A-1 job. The polish looks okay, but the nail tips don’t feel smooth. There are little rough snagging areas I’m having to smooth out with an emery board.

Plus, she kept trying to talk me into gel polish saying, “It will last longer”.

“I know gel last longer”, said I, “But I can’t get it off at home to change polish. I have to come here, and I don’t like the removal process. It’s too hard on my nails.”

Yet and still, she took every opportunity during the process to bring up gel nails again, to the point where even the pedicurist made eye contact with me, grinned, shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Leaving the salon, it occurred to me I should have complained about the less than A-1 job at the front desk. It might have resulted in a voucher for a free treatment. But complaining is not in my nature. There have been times I've felt so deeply about something that it was worth my time and energy to complain. However, as a rule, I’m more an avoider than complainer. I just won't allow myself to be booked with her again.

My not being a complainer also colored the decision not to bother myself with the mail carrier, the post office, or to post a sign at the mailbox. Instead, the plan was to eat the cost and reorder.

I did, however, let Amazon know the mail carrier screwed up, and Amazon is replacing the coffee at no further cost to me.

It turned out to be a good thing I didn't make a big deal of it because, when I went down to collect yesterday’s mail, there was a lock box key. Inside the lock box was a big box.

“Interesting”, thought I. “I’m not expecting anything big” because I’d already received the big box, which I'd assumed contained the medal hanger I’d ordered.

Planning on not hanging the item until I was certain I’d not have to move end of year, that box had been set aside for later, not opened.

Then it hit me, “If this box is the hanger, then what's inside the unopened box must be the coffee.”

Sure enough.

Color me embarrassed, but I’m chalking it up to mistaken identity caused by size … of the box. Why such a huge box for such a little item?

At any rate, I take back what I said about the mail carrier, dishonest neighbors, and I now have to rectify the situation with Amazon -- tell them I made a terrible mistake and pay for the replacement shipment.

So there’s that.

Today is Pizza Tuesday and, even though I can’t eat pizza, I’ll take my latest needlepoint project down to work on in the Community Room while I watch the show, as Pizza Tuesday continues to be a source of amusement.

This Pizza Tuesday should be especially interesting, as Activity Director has once again scheduled a simultaneous event – a Summer BBQ Potluck.

Doesn’t make sense, especially since there was supposedly a BBQ Potluck on the 2^nd, and management is throwing another on the 28^th.

Me thinks there may be a competition going on between the various groups – Next Door Neighbor’s Residents Activity Committee, the Activity Director and Complex Management.

At any rate, I didn’t want to risk a gut episode by participating in the first one, won’t be risking gut issues by participating in today’s second one, or the third at end of the month.