Fingernails

FINGERNAILS A few weeks ago, as I was preparing to purchase a few items and get a receipt for the fuel I pumped (Company fuel card), I noticed several employees searching almost frantically for one of their other employees. They spoke with a lady standing by the door and informed her they had no clue where he was. I informed them I had seen him walk to the men’s bathroom and everyone thanked me for the info. I thought nothing more of it as everyone went back to work while the lady continued to stand by the door.

I paid for my items, grabbed the fuel receipt and proceeded to walk toward the entrance/exit when the lady approached me asking if I might be able to help her. I don’t mind helping people so I told her I would help if I could, half expecting it to be something of a car issue for which I wouldn’t be useful to her at all.

To my shock, it was a car issue…..but unlike any car issue for which I ever expected to be asked for assistance, and to top it off, I would be able to help her. The lady asked me if I would be willing to remove her credit card from the fuel pump once she placed it in the slot. While I thought that extremely strange, she went on to explain that her fingernails were so long they prevented her from being able to remove the card herself.

She now had my complete attention! This isn’t a dilemma that comes about every day. She went on to inform me one of her children usually removes the card for her, but they were not with her this particular day. I surmise internally that could be a conundrum I suppose all the while thinking, also internally, just how damn long are your fingernails, lady!

Imagine my shock as I watched her place her card in the slot with fingernails longer than the blades on Freddy Krueger’s gloves. OH MY HOLY heck, Batman and Robin!! These were not nails; they were talons! They went on and on and on and I am over here trying to keep my composure so she doesn’t see I am almost afraid she might turn on me at any moment and end my life. I remove the card, somehow manage a smile, exchange pleasantries’ and begin my stroll back to the company van so I can complete my work day.

It is at this moment my mind begins to wander in directions it probably shouldn’t, but the experience I have just had creates questions that cry out for answers. The first question…..naturally is, if you cannot remove a card from a fuel pump, how in the hell do you wipe your own hind end?!? Of course, I remember she told me she usually has one of her kids remove the card and immediately a shocking image of them having to take turns helping in that department comes to my frontal lobe. “Oh no, not the poor children,” I think as I get somewhat of a sick feeling in my stomach. As bad as those thoughts are, the next makes me want to drive over a cliff.

I hope she has a man, a lot of toys or has taken a vow of celibacy from herself because the man in the boat is in real danger of being decapitated if she loses concentration or becomes startled. Seriously!! Yes, seriously…..my mind goes there and I realize I either need a lot more alcohol in my life or I need a lot more Jesus in my life.

I know it’s the latter, but now I am so far down this path, I am almost afraid even Jesus will even refuse to hang out with me. I have no issue with long nails, typically. I have even enjoyed the painful pleasure they can bring several times in my life. The lengths (pun intended) that women go thru to paint, polish, and bejewel them is mesmerizing to witness. I will occasionally make it a point to get a manicure as well. I do believe when they get so long you cannot remove a credit card from a fuel pump, you may need to reconsider your choices in life however. You should at the very least, notch a hole in the end of the card and put a clip on it so you are not forced to ask others for such trivial things.