Biting the Habit

Ever since Tiana could remember she would chew her nails down to the nub, as far as she could.  She didn’t know why she had the habit.  One minute she would perfectly compose herself and the next, her fingers were in her mouth and her teeth were chomping.  

Her mother told her it was a nervous habit.  Her father told her it was her own type of self care.  But whatever it was, it made her hands look nasty and they hurt from biting down too far.  She had become self conscious about her ugly hands and frequently hid them behind her back or curled her fingers under during social gatherings only unraveling them to bite them down to the quick.  Something had to change.  Tiana could not live her life this way anymore. 

As Tiana sat at her desk, procrastinating from all the work she had left before the upcoming end of quarter, she looked at her nails.  They looked horrible. Each and everyone was red, and her thumb had a scab on the corner.  One of her pinky nails was starting to show white, but she knew that would not last long. 

As Tiana sat in her head she heard the clicking of her coworker, Gina, on her keyboard, surely getting the work done that Tiana was putting off.  Tiana glanced over.  Although she had heard the clicking from Gina a million times before it had never given Tiana an idea, like it did now.  

“Uh, Gina.  I have a question for you.”  

“I am making a few tweaks to clean up the data and I will get it to you in a bit.”

“No, it is not about the data.  Although if you can get that to me by lunch that would be ideal.”

Gina swung her chair a full three hundred and sixty degrees to face Tiana.  “What’s up?  How can I help?” 

To Tiana, Gina was so poised and graceful.  She had long straight hair, big blue eyes with long lashes, and was dressed to impress every day.

“It is kinda personal.”

Gina furrowed her neatly plucked brow.  Tiana felt the desperate need to clarify what she meant by “personal”. 

“I mean it's nothing weird.  My question is safe for work.  It is about your nails.”  Tiana was stumbling over her words.

Gina lifted her hands to examine the long painted nails and then flopped them down so that Tiana could get a better look at the detailed flowers painted on them. 

“What about them?” 

“How often do you get them done?” 

“Every two weeks… sometimes less if they break, more if I am kind to them.” 

“And how much do they cost?”

“It depends.” 

“Depends?” 

“Yeah.  It depends on where I go, what the design is, how long they are, if I get a pedicure too.  It depends.” 

Tiana nods taking this all in.

“Like $5 or like $500?” 

Gina laughs. “We will just say I have rarely spent more than $100.” 

Tiana painted a smile.  One hundred dollars was a lot of money.  But then she thought about her hands.  One hundred dollars twice a month was worth removing the embarrassment she had about her hands.

“Next time you go…” Tiana swallowed, “could I maybe… possibly… go with you?” 

“Absolutely!  How about Thursday?”

Tiana nodded with unfettered excitement.  

“Now can I get back to the data?”

Tiana nodded with less enthusiasm and turned back to her own desk.  Now that she had a solution to her problem, she had her own work to do.  

—

When Thursday rolled around, they had made plans to go during their lunch hour.  Gina made the appointment for the both of them around the block.

Tiana sat down at the nail station, consisting of a small desk with a black cushion at the edge to rest hands, the woman at the front directed her across from a woman of Asian descent that Tiana could not put her finger on.  

“What chu like?” The woman asked with a heavy accent and pointed to the board above them.  The board listed several services, none of which Tiana could distinguish.  

“A manicure,” Tiana choked out.  It listed manicure as $30.  Not nearly as much as $100.

“She wants a gel manicure,” Gina corrected, leaning over from her own station, contorting a bit as the woman across from her buffed her nails.

Gina turned to Tiana, “gel is a little more expensive but it lasts longer.”  She gave a single nod and turned back to her own station.  Tiana noticed that gel was listed as $40, which was still significantly less than $100.  If this worked, she could sustain this.  

The woman across from Tiana nodded, “yes, gel last longer.  Pick a color.” 

The woman handed Tiana a ring of white plastic swatches, each painted with a different color.  Tiana had not thought about colors.  She didn’t care about color, she cared about not biting her nails.  At a quick glance at the colors, she picked a pale pink, a color that looked a shade lighter than her own nails.

“Nice choice,” the woman responded with a smile.  She pulled out nail clippers and a nail file.  Tiana placed her hands on the table.

“I guess I won’t need these,” the woman put away the nail clippers and file and took out a buffer to buff the tops of Tiana’s nails.  Tiana was a little embarrassed, but she promised herself this was the last time her short nails would embarrass her and she sat up a little taller. 

“Ready to get back to work?” Gina asked forty-five minutes later, standing from her station and handing the woman who worked on her nails a credit card.

Tiana handed over her own credit card and thanked the woman.  She looked at her pink fingernails.  There was no way she would bite them now.  Not only did they look nice, a layer of gel was there to protect them.

Not only was Tiana ready to go back to work, she was ready to stop hiding her hands from the world.