Getting Nailed

Yesterday I cut my nails freakishly short. For those of you who aren’t familiar with lesbian culture, I’ll give you the long and short of it (pathetic almost-pun, my apologies). I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a sexually active lesbian with long or jagged nails and here’s why: SEX. Duh. We use our hands a lot in sex and the underside of a lady is made of delicate materials. Nobody wants to be scratched down there. Plus all kinds of bacteria can get stuck up underneath nails and the thought of putting that inside one’s lover makes BDSM look kind of sweet—and even if you’re a selfish, horrible lover, you wouldn’t want to drink the water you soak your nails in at the salon, now would you? (We’ll let that image sit for a minute, it’s a little graphic.)

The US economy isn’t the only thing in a recession this quarter. I know very little about the financial climate; but if things have reached a slump anywhere near the one my love-life has reached, we’re in deep shit. As a result, I have been less than meticulous about my manicures. I let my nails get so long, they reached the keys of my laptop first—but, since that’s pretty much the only thing I’ve been tapping, I haven’t stressed about it. Maybe it was spring fever, or a bit of that Friday morning optimism (anything can happen on those wacky weekend-nights, right?), but I cut and filed my nails down to a ridiculous length.

I now feel like lobster girl.

Have you ever cut your nails so short that you lose all dexterity? I can’t peal an orange, pull off a stamp, or even pick a dime up off a flat surface! And most importantly, I’m having a really difficult time with buttons. “Sorry hot-stuff, I’d love to have sex with you; but apparently I don’t possess the digital agility to undress you. No, no, I swear, I’m really good with my hands…” All the sudden, it’s seventh grade, and I’m the only one who can’t unwrap a Starburst with her tongue—although solid money says I can't even do it with my hands right now.

Looks like I’ll be making sweet love to my key-board again this week. Unless I can find a girl with an elastic waste-band and a Velcro bra… It could happen… I also believe the market will come back, for whatever that’s worth. Perhaps that Friday morning optimism spills into Saturday afternoon.