I went to consult my hair stylist last night, something which typically takes an hour in Shanghai by the time they’ve finished fannying about. I sat down and H described what I wanted and then she popped next door to get her nails done. This time it only took ten minutes, but I was looking damn buff so no complaints from me, I paid up and popped next door to find that H had barely started, I took a seat next to her and put on my bored look.

A pretty girl sat down in front of me (no doubt attracted by my fancy hairstyle), “would you like a manicure while you wait?’ she said. “Errrrrrrrrrrr……. errrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….. errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….. ok”….I guess it’s not too bad if it has “man” in the word right?

manicure

By the end of the manicure the mound of under-nail scrapings and dead skin was several centimetres high

It was relatively enjoyable actually, although the whole experience was a little too Barbie for my liking (bright pink dusting brushes and a room done out like Barbara Cartland’s honeymoon suite etc), it got me thinking that someone should set up in the business aiming more towards blokes, you know, some buxom semi-clad bird setting to your nails with a DremelĀ® and a rotary sander (wearing the appropriate safety gear of course*) in a place decorated like a bar, with beer on tap etc. they wouldn’t even need the manicures to be honest, ok just a bar then. hmmm…

*probably just light eye protection and maybe a dust mask

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