I only thought I had good taste...

One of my favorite things in life is the day spa. I adore it. I patiently wait weeks, and sometimes months, to treat myself to the self-indulgence of paying way too much to have a stranger rub, exfoliate, and massage my body for hours on end. Now, I'm not a girl who can just go out and spend all my dollars on days at the spa, so when I do spend this exhorbant amount of money, it really chaps my hide when what happened to me at the spa this weekend actually happens.

Scene:
My best friend and I go to a very nice, new spa known for it's mediterranean architecture and saltwater lap pool. All I needed was a manicure. That's it. That's all. That's too much to ask.
Before continuing, I must let you know that I had recently purchased a new shade of OPI nail color that I was so excited about. You see, I watch a lot of Food Network. And there's a show with Giada de Laurentiis and she's the most adorable thing ever! On her show, the camera man ALWAYS gets closeups of her hands chopping nuts or rolling gnocci or something Italian like that. And her nails are perfect...flawless...naturally exquisitie. So for days I combed the internet trying to find out what nail color Giada uses (yes, obsessive, I know). Long story short, she wears OPI "Bubble Bath" so I rushed out and bought some and have been in love with the color for weeks now.
And return to scene:
So I'm getting my nails done, all the while chatting with the very friendly (so I thought) manicurist. And as she is screwing the top back on the Bubble Bath polish I had brought with me, out of nowhere she says, "You know this shade is all wrong for your skin color."
Huh? Did she really just say that?
"See, your skin is very pale."
Yeah, no crap, I've spent the last 6 years dodging melanoma. But thanks for reminding me.
"You need a color with brightness so it doesn't wash you out like this shade does."
The Manicurist from Hell proceeds to wiggle her fingers at her shelf-o-polish searching for the perfect shade.
"Here, this would be perfect for you." She proceeds to grab the most ghastly, unsighly polish I couldn't have possibly even dreamed up. It was a cross between coral, neon orange, doo doo brown, and hot pink like the neon shorts I had in 4th grade with matching hot pink socks. Atrocious.
So are you kidding me?
"Oh, yeah, that's nice," was all I could muster up to say.
The best part came next. "I guess I shouldn't say anything. I've gotten in trouble for telling people my personal opinion before."
No shit.
Glad the manicure was over, I get up and walk over to my friend's table while she gets the finishing touches on her nails.
The Manicurist from Hell follows me and as she is passing my friend's table (who is getting a gorgeous shade of deep maroon/purple perfect for fall) she lets out a cry of anguish and disgust as she sets her eyes on her hands.
"Oh! That's dark! I'm just not a fan of dark colors."
Seriously?! Not only has she turned my spa experience into a living hell, but now she's going to start on my friend?!
I left the spa in a daze, convinced I would never go back. Instead of being pampered, I was harassed. Instead of feeling beautiful, I felt ashamed. Instead of enjoying the moment, all I could think about was Giada and her amazing nails. So we left the spa and as we drove away I pictured myself taking my perfectly manicured, too-wrong-for-my-skin-tone middle finger and giving that woman the bird.