a Juck on Your Fess

On the morning of my wedding I was denied a French manicure without cause. Ulla the aesthetician scowled down at my cuticles and issued the painful verdict: “Noh.”

“No?” I prompted.

Solemnly she shook her head. “Noh.”

“But it’s my wedding day, and I’ve always wanted a French manicure ... ”

“Noh, noh, noh.”

And did I take a stand? Demand an explanation? Threaten to find a salon that would honor my wedding day wishes?

Noh.