Arlen was finally able to get back to the salon to get her nails done. It had been months. Life had been so chaotic, and money was tight from the move to her new house. Her regular nail lady, Helena, gave her a hard time about the length between visits.
“I thought you dumped me!”
“Oh, I could never dump you, girl!” Arlen said before the two women hugged.
“Good to see you again. So, what are we doing today?” Arlen told her what she wanted, and they settled in and caught up while Helena worked on her acrylic nails. They talked about family, jobs, boyfriends and then moved to celebrity gossip and their favorite shows.
About mid-way through Arlen’s appointment, a very loud and garishly dressed older woman wearing lots of gold jewelry took a seat at the next nail table over with another nail tech, Erin. Her skin was too tan and deeply wrinkled. The wrinkles were so deep her skin looked like the cracked clay of a dried-up riverbed.
She started talking at Erin in a loud voice. The topic mostly consisted of herself, and Erin just nodded and added a ‘hmm’ or a ‘oh!’ every so often. This lady was divulging some very personal things about the people in her life, like her grown kids and husband. The kind of things you shouldn’t be telling people if you don’t have consent for. Medical, personal and deeply private things no one would want shared in a busy and crowded nail salon.
Everyone in the vicinity was silent and clearly uncomfortable. Arlen just kept her gaze locked on Helena and hoped the lady wouldn’t try to talk to her. Finally, the woman fell silent. Arlen and Helena began to chat again, then the loud woman butted into their conversation.
“Oh, I don’t know how you all can watch those violent shows. They’re just terrible,” she interjected. Arlen was annoyed, but tried not to show it. She was taught to respect her elders.
“Oh, well, different strokes for different folks, I guess,” said Arlen. The loud woman held out her half-manicured hand.
“I’m Barbie.” Arlen tried to hide her disdain, so she shook the woman’s hand.
“Arlen.”
“Oh, my, you have such soft skin,” Barbie said before she grabbed Arlen’s hand in both of hers. “It’s so smooth,” she said, still feeling and petting her hand. This made Arlen deeply uncomfortable. She cleared her throat before she extracted her hand from the older woman’s grip.
“I exfoliate and use natural oils for moisture,” she said, as she turned back to Helena.
“Do you use that all over your body? Is the rest of you just as soft?” the woman asked as her eyes raked over Arlen’s body. Her discomfort only grew as the woman’s eyes flicked to her face, waiting for her to answer her incredibly invasive question. Uneasiness nested in her bones under the old woman’s gaze paired with her inappropriate inquiry.
“Uh… not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to come off as odd. I just have terribly dry skin I can never seem to get a handle on. Sorry to bother,” she said before she turned back to Erin. Well, now Arlen felt like an asshole.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I was just caught… off guard. I can get you a list of what I use when my nails are done, okay?”
“That would be splendid, dear.” When Helena finished up her set, Arlen wrote down everything she used for her skin and body care routine.
“Exfoliate only once or twice a week with a fine sugar scrub, but the rest of it I do every day. The best time to apply the coconut oil is just out of the shower when you’re still a little damp, or you can take a hot bath and add the oils to your bathwater.”
“I will give this a try. Thank you, darlin’,” Barbie said as she took the paper from Arlen, her fingers lingering a little too long on her hands.
A few weeks passed and Arlen had another nail appointment scheduled with Helena. The girls caught up in their usual fashion. Soon, Barbie burst into the salon again, coming in like a whirling dervish. Her eyes fell on Arlen, and she made a beeline for her.
“Oh Arlen! I’m so glad you’re here!” Arlen exchanged a look with Helena. She gave the older woman a tired smile.
“Hi Barbie.” She pulled up an empty chair right next to Arlen with a latte in her hand.
“I tried that skin care routine you suggested, but it doesn’t seem to be working.” Barbie grabbed her hand that Helena wasn’t actively working on to fondle and caress it. “Are you sure you told me everything and didn’t leave anything out?” Arlen pulled her hand away from her and the old woman’s hands smudged the polish. Arlen’s irritation overrode any discomfort the woman triggered in her.
“No, I didn’t,” she said sternly. “Please don’t grab my hands when Helena is working on them. I didn’t leave anything out. I told you everything I personally do.”
“I just want to have nice and soft skin like yours. It’s glowing and you’re just so beautiful.” The compliment tempered her anger. Maybe this lady simply didn’t understand appropriate social interactions and didn’t realize she was coming off as very creepy again. Her insistence was unsettling to Arlen, but she tried to push it down and give the woman the benefit of the doubt.
“Thank you. Everyone’s body is different. It might just take more time for your skin. It took about a month or so for me to see any difference. It’s a process. Your body and skin might take longer. It’s not an exact science, so just keep at it.”
“Thanks, darlin’, I do appreciate it so much.” Arlen just nodded and went back to talking with Helena, but Barbie stayed in her seat, staring at Arlen. She made a face at Helena, and she got the message.
“Hey, Barbie, can you go sit back in the lobby until you’re called for your service?”
“Oh, okay,” she said as she stood. When she rose, she bent to pick her purse up from the floor and dumped her latte all over Arlen’s sandaled feet. “Oh gosh, darlin’ I’m so sorry!” Barbie said, but didn’t bother to make a move to clean it up. Arlen was pissed. These were her new suede wedges.
“What the hell, Barbie?!” she exclaimed.
“I said I was sorry. It was an accident.”
“Barbie, please. Go out to the lobby,” instructed Helena. The old woman just shrugged. Before she pulled her chair with her, she dragged her hand across Arlen’s bare shoulders as she walked away. Her touch ignited an inexplicable panic within her. Arlen shrunk away from the woman’s touch as her eyes widened. Helena just watched as Barbie retreated into the lobby with the chair and her now empty latte cup.
“What the fuck?” Arlen whispered.
“Yeah, that was so weird. I’m so sorry she keeps bugging you and acting extremely strange and offputting”
“It’s just so odd that she’s shown up during my last two appointments.”
“Honestly, she’s in here about three times a week. You’re just supremely unlucky, it seems,” Helena giggled.
“I guess so, jeeze.”
Helena went and got a towel to clean up Barbie’s mess and they finished their appointment without any other interruptions by Barbie, since she was with Tracy, another nail tech, at the other end of the salon.
About two weeks later, Arlen had to make an emergency appointment to get her nails fixed. She had accidentally broken a few when she closed her hand in a door. Her hand was fine, but unfortunately her beautiful nails were casualties.
“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to kill this set so soon,” Arlen laughed.
“No worries, you’re always welcome in my chair. I’m just glad you got to keep your fingers.”
“Me too!” Helena and Arlen started chatting and, like clockwork, in blew hurricane Barbie, as loud and chaotic as ever.
“Oh good, Arlen, you’re here!” The two friends exchanged glances and Arlen mouthed ‘what the fuck?’ to Helena. Without even looking at her or hiding the annoyance in her voice, she replied.
“Hi Barbie,” she said flatly. She was too tired of this woman to sugarcoat herself now.
“Say, honey, I’ve kept up that routine and I have to say, I still haven’t seen any changes.” Barbie’s toe caught the back leg of Arlen’s chair, jerking it and causing Helena to polish Arlen’s fingers instead of her nails while Barbie stumbled.
“You okay?” Arlen asked with an edge of concern on her annoyance. She was just thankful the old woman had no beverages today. Barbie stood and smoothed her leopard print romper before stepping behind Arlen’s chair and set her hands on the younger woman’s shoulders, where her tank top didn’t cover her skin.
“I’m fine, darlin’,” she muttered. A chill ran through Arlen that had little to do with the temperature of the nail salon. Unexplainable terror infected her. Panic rose bitterly in her gullet, but she couldn’t move. Arlen didn’t want to cause a scene. The wrinkled hands slid up and down Arlen’s upper arms, caressing them, smoothing down to her elbows. “Say, what size are you, honey? You look like about an eight.” Arlen ignored her question. Finally, she pushed the fear down, and she shrugged the woman’s hands off of her.
“Please don’t touch me without asking,” Arlen said quietly.
“Oh, I didn’t hurt you! It’s a compliment!”
“Just please, don’t.”
“I thought we were friends?” the old woman whined. Arlen cringed. They weren’t friends. They were strangers, and strangers should not touch one another without consent. She didn’t want to tell her they were friends when they really were not, but she also didn’t want to make any more of a spectacle of them than Barbie already had. Arlen took a deep breath and cleared her throat.
“We are, but please ask before you touch me.”
“Jeeze, sorry. I just wanted to feel how soft your skin is.” Arlen didn’t know how to even respond to how fucking disturbing that sounded, so she changed the subject.
“Just keep up with the routine. Like I said before, everyone is different, so it may take longer for your skin to respond to it.”
“I will keep it up, then. Thank you, Arlen,” Barbie said before she abruptly left the salon. The girls exchanged looks before Helena began her work again.
“I am getting some majorly off vibes from her, and she’s not even obsessed with me and my skin.”
“I’m hoping she’s just really socially inept and not malicious. Honestly, she’s just really annoying at this point with little understanding of boundaries, it seems, which makes her appear creepy.”
“Yeah, it’s super weird. I hope you’re right, but do you want me to, like, escort you home or something?”
“Oh, no, Helena. I don’t think that’s necessary. I don’t think she’d follow or hurt me. Who’d give her skin advice?” Arlen laughed.
“You sure? You’re my last client for today,” she said as she finished up her fixer-upper job on Arlen’s nails.
“Nah, go home to Brett and your puppers. I’ll be fine, I promise. I have errands to run after I leave anyway,” she said as she stood.
“Alright, well, text me later, okay? We can pick a movie to live react to.”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye!” Arlen paid and left the salon, and headed to the grocery store. She needed to get dinner fixings for the next week and then drove to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. She was only out and about for an hour and a half before she drove home to her house.
After unloading her groceries, she realized she forgot her script in the car. Descending the back stairs of her house, she went back out to the garage. She rummaged around in the car when she couldn’t find the script on the seat. It was found wedged between the center console and the passenger seat.
When she opened her back door, she felt a pressure on her bare arm, as if someone had grabbed it. She looked at where she felt the pressure. Artificially tanned withered hands with liver spots covered in gaudy gold jewelry held her arm with an insistent force. Arlen’s eyes followed the hand up the arm to the face.
Barbie. How the fuck did she know where Arlen lived?! Barbie’s other hand came up and caressed Arlen’s shoulder again, and she was frozen in shock and fear, unsure of what she should say or do. Before she could break out of her frozen terror, Barbie tightened the grip on her arm, jerking Arlen closer to her before she felt something sharp bite into the skin on her lower back. The old woman’s rank breath puffed over Arlen’s face as she growled in a low whisper.
“Your skin is so soft; I can’t wait to wear it.”
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