So … I guess I was right about that whole hooker thing

Well, I’ve been sitting on this one for well over a week, faithful blog followers – and now that Mother’s Day and my Trailer Trash Mom are behind us, I can tell you the wonderful news I received last week. Apparently, I was right about that whole hooker nail salon thing.

Some of you have not been around for long enough to know just what the fuck this crazy bitch is talking about now, so let us review.

A few months back, I went to my regular nail salon – of many years as a client, having a major problem with ingrown toenails – and saw what appeared to be a young woman held hostage in the storage closet of my nail salon. That same day, I was checking my blog stats and someone had come to my blog by Googling the term “Korean hooker hostage.” Was that woman in the closet of my nail salon the Korean Hooker Hostage?

I know, I know – you are all saying that most of those places are run by the Vietnamese. Well, I was under the impression that mine was by Koreans because (1) they spoke Korean (I used to work for a guy that was married to a woman from Korea), and (2) the owner once told me they were Korean. So my theory was loosely plausible.

Then I went back a few weeks later and this crazy shit involving the owner’s husband and one of the young women that worked there went down. He was visiting because he was off work for the holidays or something and he went in the back with the girl and like 15 minutes later they came out and she was eating a banana, only in a seductive-“I’m going to shove the whole thing down my mouth with my head tilted back and my eyes closed” way.

Then the employee weirdness died down a little only for it to be replaced by perverted customers. One lady that seemed to be on crack was there spewing her crackheadedness all over the place, another time the woman sitting next to me leaned back and had an orgasm while sitting in the massage chair, and finally, the last time I was there an older man waiting for his wife had some sort of an erotic oral event with his pretzels.

So then I went on vacation and had a pedicure done while out in Chicago with one of my friends. It was the greatest experience of my life and for the same, exact price as I paid for that slum house near my home. I vowed when I got home to find a new nail salon, which I have been searching for ever since we returned. Last week I found it, and I got validation of my former place’s hooker house at the same time.

I was just sitting in my chair, reading Great Expectations and relaxing while the woman took care of my awful ingrown toenails, and all of a sudden I heard “Heather!” from across the salon. I looked up and it was one of the women that worked over at the Korean Hooker House. She came over, talked a little bit about nonsense and my vacation, and then she told me that she had recently quit the slut palace. When I asked as nonchalantly as possible, she spilled everything.

1. For some reason the owner and her husband have the impression that people will think that place is the “cut above” if it is run by Koreans instead of Vietnamese. They are all Vietnamese – most of whom were born in Vietnam and immigrated here. They tell everyone they are Korean though. Not really being up on my inner-Asian-dialogue, I have no idea why this would be and did not ask.

2. In the back of the salon, there is an office and a storage closet that employees other than the owner, her husband, and her brother are not allowed to go into. That means that everyone who comes in and out of the place is not allowed to go into these secret caverns – except under one circumstance: if they are taken in there with the owner, her husband, or the brother.

3. Two of the newer girls recently hired (I wonder if one is the banana blower) are currently having affairs in said office/storage room with the owner’s husband. Everyone knows. No one apparently cares.

4. The woman that was talking to me said that the final straw for her was when some young women that did not even speak a lick of English started coming in and just sitting around in the break room and the office. They were not employees. There were three of them (by her count). She finally asked one how old she was and was informed the young girl was 16.

So I was right. I was right. I was right. I WAS RIGHT! This doesn’t happen often. Usually I am terribly, terribly wrong. Usually I’m only right about things that are inappropriate and funny, and inappropriately funny. But not this time – this time I was spot on. What a crazy thing to be going on, and probably bad that I found out because now I feel justified in all of my other crack-pot conspiracy ideas. On to figuring out if my suspicions about all the neighbors are true too…

For some completely unrelated, yet inappropriately funny, stuff:

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The Banana Blower’s Baldness and a Chicken-peddling Crackhead: a Korean Hooker Hostage Update

That’s right, faithful blog followers, the Korean Hooker Hostage bizarro nail salon experiences have returned. For a month or so, I’ve been thinking that things may have turned back to normal and the weird, fucked up goings-on had officially come to an end. I was wrong. More wrong than I’ve ever been. Clearly, normal for this nail salon is a bunch of crazy and seemingly unexplainable shit at once.

Tawdry One Now Has Bangs … and a bald spot

The Tawdry One did my nails today – the first time since that one day she deep throated an entire banana after clearly blowing the owner’s husband in the back room. I was of course speculating, but the bananarama really did happen. To this day, I still cannot figure out how she got that entire banana down her throat in one swoop.

So she came over and said “hello” and I noticed she has new bangs. I don’t think she had bangs before, now she does and – quite frankly – they’re hot. They’re sort of chopped or spiky, very cute. Okay, but don’t get too thinking that I’m nice and all because then the bitch leaned over to start doing my nails and I noticed she had a horrifyingly large bald spot. This woman cannot be older than her mid thirties and that lady is balder on the top of her head than my father who just turned 69 today.

I quickly forgot this, though, because a homeless crackhead came in trying to peddle her chicken on me.

A New Korean Hooker Hostage Character: the Chicken-peddling Crackhead

So this woman walked back into the salon after I had sat down and the bald, blow-job bitch had begun stabbing at my nails and cuticles with her utensils of pain. I say “back” because something like her fourth phone call in which she screamed like a crazy person at her boyfriend to come pick her up, she mentioned that her pedicure had been dry for well over an hour and her “chicken and clam chowder was going bad.” He still had not picked her up when I left.

You may be asking yourselves how such a catch could be stood up at the nail salon by her boyfriend. Well, in the hour or so that I was there, through her many conversations, her six trips to the bathroom, and her utter refusal to stop asking me if I wanted some of her chicken, I learned quite a few of her qualities that may not be considered by all to be endearing.

* She is actually homeless. I don’t get how a homeless person with no money can afford to carry a Coach bag and get pedicures at the local nail salon, but who am I to say where people should spend the little money they have. So she’s homeless and sleeps on a bed at the Y when not shacking up with her boyfriend, who happens to have a nice home in the hills (i.e. he has a lot of money… . . . . . ).

* Her food stamps were recently revoked because she got caught purchasing alcohol with them. While there, she took a call with her food stamp agent, though, and found out that her stamps were reinstated. Immediately afterwards, she walked across the way to the local grocery store to purchase some chicken, clam chowder, and carrots.

* She smokes crack. At first, I just sort of figured this was the case because of the multiple trips to the bathroom, the general crackhead-type behavior, the screaming on the phone, among other things – but then she actually said to someone on the phone that she was waiting for her boyfriend to come pick her up so they could go get their rock.

When you really look at the woman, you feel sort of bad for her. In the end, it’s a terribly sad situation. But at the same time, I just have to say WHAT THE FUCK?! As sad as it may seem, this lady is definitely making some choices that are not in her best interest. I would argue that using crack-cocaine is probably one of them.

So then the woman started roaming around the nail salon trying to force everyone to eat some of the chicken that she purchased at the grocery store across the street. After a while, I started keeping track of how many times she tried to pressure me to take a big chomp of her $6.99 roasted chicken. By the time I left, she had harassed me (and I say harassed because she was really giving me a hard time) – NINE TIMES. Sadly, the ninth time I said I was not hungry, everyone could hear my stomach growl at the most inopportune moment, and I was proven a complete liar.

So, yeah. I suppose crazy is the norm for this place. I didn’t even have the time to go see if that hostage was back in the closet again. I’ll be back in two weeks, though. Who knows just what the hell will go down then?

Seriously, lady? (a Korean Hooker Hostage Update)

The Korean Hooker Hostage situation continues to get weirder and weirder, and evermore sexual, each time I go. Today was my every-other-week appointment (like usual) and I almost got through it without a bunch of fucked up shit going down. In the end, though – no dice.

In fact, today was probably the most fucked up of all days.

Let’s first review:

A month ago, I was walking to the bathroom in the back of my local nail salon when I noticed a random woman sitting on the floor of the storage closet. She wasn’t organizing, the lights were off, she wasn’t really doing anything – just sitting there. That very morning, when I checked my blog statistics report, I noticed someone had Googled, and gotten to my blog by doing so, the term “Korean hooker hostage.” Was she the Korean Hooker Hostage?

Two weeks ago, the Korean Hooker Hostage in the closet was gone, but replaced with another debacle: the nail salon owner’s husband clearly having an affair with one of the younger employees, who at the end of my pedicure emerged from the back room deep-throating a banana. I shit you not, she put the entire thing in her mouth in one gulp.

The holidays are over, so they were pretty slow and had hardly any employees working today. My pedicure was done peacefully – I, reading my book; my nail lady interrupting only once in a while to ask a question. By the time it was over, I was relaxed and starting to get sleepy; content in the fact that the nail salon dramas seemed to have settled down. And at that point there was only one other person in the salon, sitting in the chair next to me and waiting for her nail polish to dry.

“You want the massage chair on while you wait?” her nail lady asked her as the remaining nail salon employees disappeared into the back room. “Oh, I’ll just take the BUTTOCKS MASSAGE” the lady replied.

For those of you that have never had the BUTTOCKS MASSAGE in a nail salon massage chair, it isn’t something that just vibrates the sides of your fanny. No, no, faithful blog followers: it’s a full-out assault on your ass and vaganjay, with vibrations, kneading, and circular pressure massage. I didn’t know anyone actually used or requested the feature.

Trying to ignore this lady getting her anal rub down, I started looking around for my nail lady so I could pay and get the fuck out of there before things got weird. Within moments, though, this lady leaned back, closed her eyes, and it got ugly. Quietly, she began to moan – MOAN FAITHFUL BLOG FOLLOWERS – with me (a complete stranger) sitting right next to her. She was starting to spread her legs and moan louder when my nail lady walked out, and the perverted lady clearly on the verge of a nail salon chair-orgasm sat up straight and announced she needed to leave.

Horrified, I took a mental note of what chair she was in, when I also noticed that she didn’t even tip the poor woman that scrubbed her perverted and disgusting feet.

So what’s next, faithful blog followers? This is (of course) not really an update on the Korean Hooker Hostage situation per se, but I fear this is merely a prelude of what is to come…