So I decide to get a “pose vernis” when the owner of the place, Tarek happens to walk into the store. I met him before and thought he’s kinda nice but borderline sleazy. He decides to join us upstairs and flops on the couch next to me. I won’t lie I was starting to feel uncomfortable. Here I was getting my cuticles cut next to some man who by now asked me three times “tishraby shee?”
If this guy knows anything about what the beauty salon experience means to a girl he would know that women are not comfortable having random men around during such sacred moments. I mean this was not some shoe shine I was getting on a street sidewalk. These were my nails and no one but the lady and I should see them at their most vulnerable state. Tarek insists on having a chat and asks me the most typical question I get asked, which I consider quite invasive, “Wen sekneh?” (where do you live?) I answer Tarek ambiguously “ bil mantaa2a.” ( in the area)
At this point Tarek starts blabbing non-stop about himself, I felt like he was in an interview, except I wasn’t asking him any questions. He starts telling about his pimped up Subaru and how he’s part of the Subaru car club, kinda like a motorbike club except they drive Subarus. He invited me join them on Sunday for a drive. I thought of all the single guys I might run into but my thoughts quickly shifted to how fast these guys drive their cars and got a little nervous. Speed limits are non-existent in this country. When my nails were done Tarek walked me over to my car and opened the door for me . It was sweet of him but I couldn’t imagine myself dating a guy who hung out at a beauty centre all day chatting up girls. I need a man who has more important things to tend to.
