You sip your Fit Vine wine from your filled-to-the-top Yeti.  You don’t want to get up to pour more. Or, maybe, you want to say you only have one “glass” a night. It is February and frigid and you can’t


find your fuzzy socks but you are under your shit brown sherpa comforter and you’ve DVR’d Unpolished on TLC.  Maybe you won’t admit to watching it. But here it is: Lexi does nails and she lost


a lot of weight and she hates her sister Bria’s fiancé, Matt who is a recovering addict who said he slept with Lexi and Bria’s mom, Jennifer when he was in high school. And Lexi jokes that Bria just popped


out of the womb covered in sparkles. And you wonder where they buy their sequined mini-skirts and leopard stilettos. You have never worn glittery, tight-as-fuck clothing.  You cannot take your eyes off


Jennifer who sits on a saffron velvet chair that reaches the ceiling of her McMansion as she does her confessional clip.  You feel the weight of her eyelash extensions and wonder what is the point? Lexi has


blue hair extensions that reach her waist. Your hair is usually up in a no-nonsense knot and you know these women would hate your fleece joggers and sweaters that look like blankets and shoes that look


like slippers style. And you find out their dad, Big Mike Martone who used to be a plumber died of cancer…or maybe Covid before the start of Season Two. And they call in a psychic to ask him if he hid


some money because they can’t pay for Bria’s garish wedding anymore.  (A nail-biting segment.) Now it cuts to Grandma Foxy who works at the Long Island salon too.  She cotton candies her 99-year-old


client’s hair until you almost can’t see her scalp. She will tease your hair until there’s no tomorrow, Lexi quips as her clients get nails so long you wonder how they drive home or wipe their asses.  You can’t


imagine having them over your practical ones. Or, maybe you can. The nails do magic tricks. They have light bulbs and tea cups and faux fur–You wonder what will happen when they break next week.