The clipping lady

I am on the mini-bus to work, as I do every morning. The ride is short, only 10 to 15 minutes, depending on traffic. Today the bus has more passengers than usual, so I am lucky to get a one-seater, as I don't have to share seat with some stranger.

While sitting and looking out the window, I hear a clicking sound from behind me. "Click-click," I hear again. The sound is familiar but too soft to make something of it. "Click-click, click-click," I hear again. The sound is that of two fine metals. I have an idea of what it is, but didn't think it is possible, so I disregard it and continue to mind my own business. "Click-click, click-click, click-click," I hear yet again. By now I am sure of what it is. Then as if by reflex, I turn my head back to confirm what I thought is impossible--that of a lady sitting behind me clipping her fingernails with a nail clipper, on the mini-bus.
The shock factor almost matches the time with the booger-man on the mini-bus.

The lady behind looks to be in her thirties. She looks decent but what she is doing is extremely indecent. And from the quick glance back, I didn't see her using any safety-net to hold her clippings. I can understand the occasional clipping of a broken nail; that I don't find unusual, as some women carry a nail clipper in their purse. But a full-on 10-finger manicure in public? That's just not right.

Now that I know what is going on right behind me, it becomes irritably uncomfortable every time I hear "click-click." Suddenly, my hearing seems extra-sensitive, and each "click-click" is like two sticks beating on a drum in my ear. I am frightened of the sound and feel threaten every time I hear it.

Then as if to confirm what I am most afraid of that could happen, I hear a "click-click" follow by seeing a tiny, white object flying over my left-shoulder, then landing onto the passenger sitting in front of me. The poor man in front has no clue.

That's it. I can't stand it anymore. As though someone above hears my crying prayer of helplessness, two passengers on the right gets off the bus at the next stop. I couldn't jump fast enough to their seat. Possibly sharing a seat with some stranger is now the least on my mind. If anything, it's even better if someone comes on to sit next to me, adding an extra blockade between me and the clipping lady and her flying nails.

Where I sat remains empty for the rest of my ride. Perhaps I am not the only one who is aware of what lurks behind. Before I get off the bus, I take one final look at the clipping lady, and sure enough, she is still clipping away. "Click-click, click-click" stays in my head for the rest of the day.

Filed Fri - March 26, 2004, 10:26 AM in

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