1 /5 Mallory Musick: (Part 1)I had the most awful experience. Do not come here. I had not great experiences in the past coming here, but on 1/23/25 really topped the cake. I came in around 4:56PM to request a mani & pedi for an upcoming social event. I showed a woman a photo of nails THEY DID & POSTED ON THEIR FACEBOOK. A man, I believe his name was āBobbyā came up to me. He smelled strongly of cigarette smoke. He kept questioning my color choice, and wanted me to change it. I asked if they did not offer the color they have posted on their Facebook, he did not answer, but urged me to change it. So, I did. I wasnāt trying o cause any issues. We proceed with the services. I noticed that Bobby was very sloppy on the nail application, and also kept missing to put color on the sides of the nail. There was also still wet polish, which I was confused of why there was polish when it was an acrylic set. I saw him TOUCH THE WET POLISH, looked at his finger, and proceeded to wipe it away. I did not immediately tell him all the errors I was seeing due to I have had my nails done in the past, and they would fix any issues towards the end. Though, when I realized it was coming to an end and he made no effort to fix any issues he saw I finally spoke up. I do have very bad anxiety, and speaking up on services like this is very hard for me. But, I could see what the set of nails was about to look like, and it was something not at all I wanted.
When I did speak up, he started to try to say he couldnāt fix them. That it was my fault I waited to tell him. I did not raise my voice at him, and I started to address just the issues with the polish & where on one of my fingers the color had a whole gap. He said he couldnāt fix them, and if he did he would have to remove the whole set. Another woman, the same from earlier. Iām unsure if that was his partner, due to in the beginning of the service she kept sitting close to him, and showing photos that were on her phone. She came over, and obviously could see my nails were a mess. Polish was all over my cuticles and in-between on the sides. Clumped fuzz was caked in the polish. There were parts of the polish that were just bumpy/pilled up. During this time, I was not talking, because of how uncomfortable I felt. The man, after conversing with the female slammed his Dremel on the cart very loud. He stormed off cursing, leaving very stunned people. This all occurred where three other individuals were also getting services done while I was there. He came back a few minutes later and angrily was clipping off my nails, during the process he actually clipped me twice on my skin. He left right after the humiliating, and embarrassing situation that I endured. The happened a little before 6:25PM.
And, I unfortunately did cry. My anxiety was at a all time high, and couldnāt even leave due to them removing the rest of the tattered remains of acrylic and polish. Multiple workers came up to me telling me they were sorry for his behavior. I simply turned my heard away to have to sit their still, while my hands felt like they were being mutilated. They kept hitting the Dremel on the cuts he made. Put my hands in what I believe was acetone to soak off the rest. Which, burned greatly. Than, kept going over my nails with the Dremel that were now very sensitive and felt like they were burning from what felt was the heat from the Dremel.
I wanted to leave. I kept insisting that I would like to go home. I repeated multiple times I would just like to pay for my feet and go. Another woman, who I thought felt sorry for me insisted she would do my nails, and as she said āfree of chargeā, āno cost for the nailsā. I told her as well that I just wanted to go home. I already was even more ashamed that my emotions were high for me, and I was crying in public. She kept insisting. So, I just allowed it. She was being very kind, and appeared she wanted to fix the issues the other man caused. I was approached by another male individual who questioned why I cried. Though, Iām not going to sit there and explain anxiety and PTSD issues.
