I walked into the nail place my wife suggested I go before our cruise to the Bahamas. This cruise, part business and part pleasure, would have lots of Yuppie guys who had professional manicures and got haircuts every two weeks. I was not enthralled with the idea of polishing up my appearance for a trip that was intended to be relaxing, but I acquiesced.
The nail place as situated in a shopping plaza much like countless others in suburbs across the U.S. I always walk into new places with the utmost confidence; it's almost a philosophy of life by now. I'm 32 years old, 5'10 and 175 lbs. My build is medium; I have a head full of thick, black hair and no gut. Most women would rate me a 7 or so in looks, which doesn't bother me at all.
As I walked into the store, I noticed all the women were Vietnamese, both those waiting and the employees. Not wanting to look like a fish out of water, I gave the girl at the front register a big smile. "Hello. My wife sent me for a manicure." The woman replied "You must be Greg. It's your first time?" I told her it was, and she immediately directed me toward a room in the back.