A few weeks ago, I went to the xoVain offices to get some photos taken. I went pretty late, so when I was leaving, Marci and Annie were leaving, too. I walked down with them, and on our way downstairs, I found out that Marci lived in the same neighborhood as me (kind of--she lives in the nicer part), so we headed to the subway together.
(Also, side note, as if you guys already didn’t know this, but Marci and Annie are the kewlest.)
As we were walking to the subway, we passed a beauty salon and I said “Ahh have you ever been there? I’ve walked past it a million times and never gone.” And Marci said, “No, what is it?” And then I told her about what was either the greatest or worst business idea ever.
“It’s a salon that’s open 24 hours and you can go get a manicure or pedicure or whatever you want, whenever you want.” And then Marci laughed and said, “You totally need to go at 1 a.m. and write about it.”
Last weekend, I went to some girl’s party in my apartment building. After standing around for a while talking to people I didn’t know and pretending to care about their conversations, I decided my feet hurt and I wanted a pedicure.
I had downed a few glasses of sangria at that point, so it didn’t bother me that I would have to take an hour trip into Manhattan to the salon because the R line is messed up. (Seriously what is the deal with the R line? Do you read xoVain, MTA? Help!)
When I finally got to Hair Party 24 Hours (yes, that’s what it’s called), it was around 1:30 a.m. I walked right in and told them I wanted the express pedicure. One of the two women there told me that they didn’t do express pedicures this late in the night, but they would do the one that costs a lot more money. No way. Not while drunk. If I’m going to pay $50 for a pedicure, I want to remember that calf massage and salt scrub.
I opted for the express manicure instead. If I were drunker, I probably would have said yes to the pedi because there’s something about being wasted and not caring where your money goes.
When I sat down in the chair, I showed her my fingers, and she said extremely loud “OH YOU HAVE NO NAILS.” Ugh! Duh! I know, I bite my nails, sometimes to the point of blood, and they aren’t in the best shape. I’ve tried almost everything short of hypnosis to get myself to stop biting them and none of it has worked. I don’t need to be reminded by the manicurist that I have hideous hands. I’m reminded every time I see cool nail art I can’t do. Even though my nails are super short, I would still like the cuticles to be pretty and all the gross stuff around the nails clipped off.
After shaming my stubs, she was actually really nice. She asked me what I was doing after my manicure, probably expecting a really exciting answer, but instead I said, “Going home. I’m tired.”
I picked out a neon pink because it was the brightest, summeriest color they had.
Now, this is why this lady deserves to be called a pro. Every time I paint my short nails, it gets all over the skin and looks uneven and disgusting. But she made my nails look gorgeous, and that’s not just the alcohol talking.
I was really impressed, but also sad now because I’ve almost chewed all the polish off. I don’t know if I would do this again unless I went with my friends AFTER the bars closed and we wanted something else to do. But just being there at 1 a.m. all alone was kind of depressing, and I think people were giving me weird looks through the window? I thought I would be a lot more rowdy and laugh-y during the whole process, but the fact that I was one of four people in the fluorescently lit salon just made me extremely sleepy.
When I went to pay, they tacked on an extra five dollars for “late night,” so with tip the whole manicure cost me $25. I’ve definitely gotten cheaper manicures in Manhattan before (think $7), but many salons aren’t open outside of normal work hours, so unless you want to skip work for a manicure or get one on the weekends, this could be a good option for you but you’re going to pay for it.
Also at the very end the manicurist said, “I did my best.” Which struck me as odd, but I was too tired to deal.
My buzz had totally worn off by the time I left, but I couldn’t stop looking at my nails the whole train ride home. They were just too fab.
Have you ever gotten a beauty treatment done after-hours? Ever gotten one while drunk? How can I quit biting my nails?!