After a lovely morning at the zoo and with Liza safely asleep in the backseat so she wouldn't steal my fries, I made a quick stop at Burger King for lunch. The guy took my order over the intercom, and when I pulled up to the window to pay I was greeted by a normal-looking guy wearing a Burger King polo shirt with a nametag saying "Rob." So you can imagine my surprise when the (hairy) arm that reached out to take my money was sporting a large princess-cut diamond engagement ring and inch-long nail extensions painted in a nice neutral French manicure. Yes, I checked, and the arm did indeed belong to "Rob," who otherwise would have ranked pretty high on my list of People Who Don't Look Like Off-Duty Drag Queens.
There's got to be a pretty good story behind that manicure (possibly involving lots of alcohol and a really bad gambling mistake), but unfortunately I couldn't even work up the courage to ask him where he'd gotten it done. That would be a heck of a sociology experiment - show up to work with a manicure and see how people respond to the incongruity. I think Jason should give it a try when we get back from Easter, don't you?