Welcome to the (Cuticle) Danger Zone.

I decided to relax on Friday and get a manicure, somewhere close to work. I NEVER treat myself to manicures. Maybe it's because my Jewish father always told me "not to spend my money in one place," and I always felt guilty shelling out the extra $20.00+ for someone else to paint my nails. Thus, the reason I was extra excited to reward myself for helping to carry boxes up 6 flights of stairs and clean the floors constantly to wipe up the trail movers and delivery people had left behind. That having been said, I decided to do so since I had a wedding on Friday (our first Friday wedding at A New Leaf in Lincoln Park) and had been moving over the past 2 weeks (and just wanted to not feel like my hands were just soaked in battery acid & clean up my cuticles). I took a trip across the street from work, to a small yet generally well reviewed place called the Nail Station (at Ogilvy Transportation Center). I made my way over to this venue and was helped immediately, and got right in for an appointment. I felt pretty good about it. I was ready to just have someone else make my hands feel pretty again.

Not so fast, Mish! Someone is going to cut your cuticles. And by cut I mean, make the skin on my ring finger bleed. Yes, bleed. Horray! What a great lunch time surprise! I know that I probably only have about 10 friends who read this blog, but if you happen to be one of them, I highly advise you to stay away from the cuticle danger zone, i.e. Nail Station at Ogilvy. The people there seriously don't really pay too much attention to what they are doing because they are so concerned about turnaround time between customers. Of course, that's understandable given that it's in the train station & people don't have tons of time to waste. However, that's not translation for "Please stare at customers walking in the door while you are working on my manicure so that you accidentally cut me. Thanks!"

I would not suggest a visit here. Just wait until the next day and go to another location with better reviews, perhaps not in a train station. Sorry to over share, but it hurt. Photo for proof! See my ring finger? Ouch!