Wanting to be pampered, and never having done so together, That’s Not Chinese and I set an appointment for manis and pedis. We arrived, saw all of the women waiting in the chairs, and advised staff of our appointment. They looked at the appointment book – which had nothing but written in it and said, “Oh, yes, pick a color and sit.”
We picked our color, sat in the chairs, dipped our feet in the tubs, and enjoyed our ‘coffee.’ As the staff did our nails, I shared a New York mani/pedi story with That’s Not Chinese. The staff spoke with each other, quietly, in a language foreign to me. “That’s Not Chinese,” That’s Not Chinese told me. “No, it isn’t. It wasn’t Chinese in New York either. Regardless, I’m not sure how they hear each other – they speak so quietly and us, well, everyone hears us speak.”
A few minutes later the girl doing That’s Not Chinese’s nails told her she had been listening to us talk and trying not to laugh. “You seem to have a pretty good time. Next time when you come, instead of coffee in your cups, you should have wine or alcohol. Then you could have a really good time.” “That is a great idea,” That’s Not Chinese replied gesturing to the bottom of her cup where the wine had bled through. I acknowledged her gesture, raised my ‘coffee’ cup and whispered, “Cheers! That is a language we understand – we are now officially nail salon lingual.”