This afternoon I broke a nail. They were long and I knew it was going to happen, so I immediately called my nail girl and was told she could not see me until tomorrow. The thing with nails is that if one breaks, I take it as a sign I should bite the other ones so they are even. I have a small window of time to get it taken care of it before I ruin the rest, which I always do.
I was in Hollywood, having just been to a meeting, and knowing my girl was not available, I went into a small nail shop and asked if someone could file down my nails and do a polish change. If they are even and nicely painted I will leave them alone. It felt a little bit like I was cheating on my beloved Julie the nail girl, but it needed to be done, and fast, so it was on.
I picked my color, a lovely garnet red, and took a seat. I explained to the young woman that I needed her to file them down to the length of the broken one and paint them. She got to working and I noticed the woman next to me was glancing my way. I smiled and tried to not notice how short her skirt was, or that her eye makeup was heavier than a Kardashian’s.
It was not an outfit I would wear in the afternoon, or ever, but bless her for rocking it. The nail girl asked me if I lived in the neighborhood and I told her it was an emergency visit and I lived in the valley. She told me I needed to come back to see her, and continued with her small talk. She asked what I did, I told her I was a writer, she smiled and congratulated me.
It was the cutest thing. She said congratulations. I laughed a little, turned to the woman next to me, and was immediately asked if I was Ilana Angel. I paused for a quick second not sure what was happening and if I should lie, but then simply said yes. Before I could apologize for not remembering if we had met, she told me she was a fan of my blogs and read daily.
It was very sweet. She was so happy to talk to me that it made me feel humbled and proud. We got to chatting about some of my recent postings, and hearing her take was really interesting. I forget sometimes that people are reading, and to have strangers relate to my life and how I write about it, is fascinating. We began a spirited and hilarious conversation.
Turns out my new friend is very opinionated. We share a lot of the same views, and on the things where we don’t, she was not shy about telling me so. It was then that she told me she was a hooker. We spoke about the blog I wrote on whores and she said she was not offended by the word whore. At the end of the day she was a whore, and that was just a fact.
She went on to tell me that I only ever wrote one thing that bothered her. She may not always agree with me, but one thing pissed her off. I was hanging on every word of this woman. She was smart, articulate, and animated. I found myself laughing and wanting to move closer, just to be near her. I insisted she tell me what I wrote that annoyed her.
In a truly perfect moment she told me she gets pissed off when I call LeAnn Rimes a whore because Rimes gives whores a bad name. Oh. My. God. I’m in Hollywood talking to a real life hooker and she is angry about sharing a title with Rimes? I burst into hysterical laughter. Perfection. Of all the things I write this is the thing to piss her off? I now loved her.
By now she had selected a chocolate color for my nails, thinking the garnet would make me look like a hooker. I LOVE her. As we both got our nails painted the same color, and after I apologized for offending her, we got to talking about her and her work. Important to note I promised not to write anything that she told me, but got permission to say she was a hooker.
Her story was sad but funny. She was beautiful but wounded. I think she is a remarkable woman and at only 26 has lived many lives. She works hard and has a plan for her life. She made me laugh, cry, think, feel, pray, and reflect. It was a remarkable conversation and as I type this, looking down on my chocolate covered nails, I am smiling at the blessing of meeting her.
I stayed with my new friend long after our nails were dry. I offered to pay for her nails, but she would not let me. I offered to give her my phone number so we could perhaps have lunch, and she refused. She told me LeAnn Rimes was garbage and that I was magic. She said my blogs made her laugh and she felt normal relating to someone normal. Normal?
I assured her I was far from normal and she told me it didn't matter if I felt normal, what mattered is that I made her feel normal. Wow. I hugged my new friend and told her she made my day. She hugged me back in a way that mattered. I could feel the hug all the way to my heart. Life is full of surprises and today the surprise was meeting someone very special.
To my new friend, who asked that I refer to her as “Vivian”, as in Pretty Woman, I know you are reading and I want you to know that I think you are fabulous. I will also clarify, when talking about LeAnn Rimes, she is a stupid whore, so as not to offend smart whores. I hope I see you again and you know how to find me. Be strong, be proud, call your mom, and keep the faith.
We welcome your feedback.
Your information will not be shared or sold without your consent. Get all the details.
Terms of Service
JewishJournal.com has rules for its commenting community.Get all the details.
JewishJournal.com reserves the right to use your comment in our weekly print publication.comments powered by Disqus