Our dexterous hands are what separate us from the animals, specifically by locking our front doors. Domesticate your digits with this Groupon.
Choose Between Two Options
- $18 for one mani-pedi (a $37 value)
- $37 for two mani-pedis (a $74 value)
Charming Nails and Hair Salon
Using her hands to shovel Geoff's potato chips into her mouth, Marni noticed she had chipped one of her nails, an accident that must have occurred sometime between nibbling one of Erica's homemade muffins and using a plastic knife to frost over the sliver she had carved from the side of Greg's yet un-cut birthday cake.
She had already chipped five nails that day—an unusual series of events for someone who was so careful when stealing other people's lunches. Her fingers were usually so stealthy, so nimble, so smooth. If only the receptionist hadn't discovered her "lost" mittens wedged suspiciously between the top of the refrigerator and the side of the microwave.
Marni sighed and crammed Geoff's lunch sack back into the office fridge. She'd have to be more careful from now on, she thought, as she crumpled up the empty chip bag and stuffed it under her blouse. She turned to close the refrigerator door, reaching out at the last second to pinch off a corner of a half-eaten donut half-heartedly covered in plastic wrap. As she retracted her hand, it clipped the top of a bottle of root beer, sending a deep gash across the red lacquer that graced her index finger. Six.
As she shoved the donut crumb into her mouth, Marni's mind flashed to the manicure kit that Jenna always kept in her desk. Smiling, she made her way over to her cube mate's desk, knowing full well that Jenna never spent her lunch hour on-the-clock. She reached into the top drawer and stopped. There, where the foul-smelling bottle of polish usually sat was a tiny business card: Charming Nails and Hair Salon.
Marni thought for a second. The only thing harder than stealing a cranberry scone from a catering platter was to try and do it with freshly painted nails. Better to wait until after work when her tired hands could be treated with the care, respect, and pampering they deserved. She had never liked Jenna's choice of color anyway.
She tossed the crumpled potato chip into Jenna's empty wastebasket, slipped the business card into her pocket, and walked away wondering what color would go best with the pastrami and rye that Dave always brought on Tuesdays.