I was getting my nails done today. I so love getting my nails done. My nail person has been doing my nails for the last 12 years. I don't really have a set appointment time, she just calls me, tells me to bring beer and we'll get'er done. It works for us...we're in Texas.

But today was kind of funny. I felt like I was in a gigantic black hole. Something...somewhere was FIXIN' TO implode. (you gotta be in Texas to understand the FIXIN TO thingie)

I was getting my nails done (I know I already said that. Shut up.) When the person after me showed up just a wee bit early. She was dropped off by a big ol' F350 by her man, yelled something at him, hit the tailgate as she walked off and strolled in. "Hey Donna!" yelled Steph (my nail chicky) "How the hell was Vegas?"

Donna plopped down in a chair, kicked off her flip flop and began removing her toenail polish. "It'd have been more fun if I wasn't with Stupid." "Stupid? Is that your husband?" I asked.

Now let's stop here. If you don't hang out in a nail shop listening to the stories, it's like walking in on a soap opera where you have to keep asking why the star is crying over two socks in the middle of the floor..... ok? So - I'm obviously walking in on a story that began loooooong ago. Conversly, this chick KNOWS that I'm moving, and she also knows everything else about me. You know that feeling that you get when you think that people talk about you? Yeah....I'm thinking I was right on for being paranoid all these years.

"Stupid is a friend of mine. She's about as white trash as you can get. Chuck is my husband. He's stupid too, but he's not Stupid. Stupid's just....you can get the girl out of the trailer park, but you can't pull the trailer park outta the girl....did you sell your house yet? When do you leave?"

See what I mean?

But wait. Let's look at Donna. She just called her FRIEND that she went to VEGAS with ..."white trash". She says this while she's wearing cut off jeans that are way too short and define a very pronounced camel toe. She's also wearing a brown tank top that's very tight, and I remember seeing the thing hanging in WalMart last week for $3.99... full price. It shows off a generous muffin top and two slightly dirty bra straps that are in no way hidden by the tank top top. While she's talking, she's picking at her toenails, with one leg sprawled out and the other propped up on the edge of the chair. Her multi-color hair is spikey and sticking up all over the place.

But Stupid is the white trash girl.

"Norman - get us some beers!! I wanna hear about Stupid!" Stephie propped her hand up on her chin.

"Oh! Yeah! You will not believe what she did. We were going to Gallagher's at the New York New York and we decided to dress up. So I wore my torn t-shirt with the neck ripped out and the cleavage that showed me to here" (points between and slightly below her boobs). I wore my tight jeans and heels. I looked HOT. Stupid was wearing shorts and tennies...but went upstairs to change. I was like...THANK GOD, but then she came back down and she was wearing white pants, a red ruffle top and a big red bow in her hair. She looked like a friggin' white trash cheerleader!! Damn it! This beer's warm. What the FUCK is wrong with your fridge!!" Gets up, kicks the hell out of it, and sits down with both legs stretched out, bare foot.

And this whole time, all I could do was stare at her. In disbelief. Now you see - I live in Texas and all, but DAMMIT!! I know what a sorbet palate cleanser is, and what it's for. I also know to dress accordingly and to use the silverware from the outside in. AND I know that the fork at the top of the plate is to be used last.

I enjoy restaurants with real cloth tablecloths and will not eat there if they have a sheet of glass covering said cloth tablecloths.

So PLEASE PEOPLE!! I saw this today, and I wanted to tell you....please believe that not all Texans are like this!!

We usually pick our toes in private.