I should preface this by saying, I hate manicures. They make me nervous. I never have one that I don’t expect the manicurist to look at my hands, or arms, or neck and say, Have you noticed you have a strange lump there? (Anyone who’s had cancer or thought they did will appreciate the source of that anxiety.) So my nails invariably look like I’ve just clawed myself out of a well, but I have a public function coming up and thought I should look respectable. So I took my seat at the nail salon, looked out the window, and saw a woman hit by a car.
She was lying in the middle of the parking lot. It was a very busy parking lot. I jumped to my feet, but before I could do anything, she was surrounded by people and I thought the most helpful thing I could do would be to call the police. Which I did. They said they would be right there, and they were, in probably less than five minutes. Police cars, ambulance, etc.
This caused the manicurist to get very upset because her son was hit by a car and no one showed up for an hour. She’s Korean and lives in Queens. Some of my favorite people in the world are Korean. Some of my other favorite people in the world are from Queens. So I felt sad at what she was saying and listened to her, and it was a discouraging story, and probably twenty minutes went by and then the door to the salon opened and a woman walked through.
It was the woman who had been hit by a car. All the police were gone. She looked okay, though rattled, and she said, “I’ve just been hit by a car. Can I get a manicure?”
I got out of there as fast as I could, convinced if I stayed much longer a flying saucer would land. I wanted to come right home and tell my dear friend, but she’s without power, and I can’t reach her. I told my husband, and he said, “This is why we need Romney and tort reform.” So I thought, well, I’ll write a blog.
If you’re wondering why I haven’t been blogging in a while, it’s because I’ve been tweeting at @susanjbreen. Please stop by!