Pronunciation Key

Last night I went to a Karaoke bar to celebrate a friend's birthday. This is a story about the wonder that is spoken and written English. It is relevant that I mention here that I don't believe I've ever had a manicure from a professional. I've got this feeling that MAYBE when I was in my friend's wedding years ago and we all went to a salon together, it could have happened, but perhaps not. In any case, I view manicure culture as foreign, bizarre, and probably quite charming, like the cultures of rugby, or rock collecting.

The bathroom at the Rickshaw is very small and very mirrored. In this way, it reminds me of affordable restaurants in New York City. As I waited for one of the two stalls to become vacant, I read a handmade manicure "menu" on the door. I learned that Nikki would come to my house if I liked, and that there I could partake of services like "Full something or other...Tips... Fill etc." There was something that stopped me in my tracks. (Those of you who ARE familiar with manicure culture, suspend your knowledge for just a moment, and join me in a world where "Polish" means "from Poland".)

One of the items on the menu was "Polish Change".

"Like an oil change? But Polish? What is the implication?" I thought. My temperature began to rise at the perceived indignity. (I, myself, am NOT Polish, but in 8th grade I found a book of "Portuguese jokes" that were Polish jokes with the word "Portuguese" inserted in the appropriate places, and have since felt a kind of soul-fraternity with Polish Americans.) "Why would a manicure be called 'Polish'?" I needed someone who either knew more about manicures or more about the specifics of anti-Polish slurs. Very likely, most people on the planet could therefore have been of service.

At that moment, I heard a flush and before me stood a Karaoke patron who probably fit the bill.

"Do you know anything about manicures?"

"Uh, not really. Kind of...."

"What do you think this is?" (I pointed.)

"Um, I guess it's like, when they change the polish... take it off and put a new one on I guess?"

(As she spoke the word "polish" (rhymes with 'smallish')my face displayed my sudden enlightenment. I know because there were mirrors everywhere... it looked pretty silly, all that realization right there in a humid, cramped bathroom. "Aha! Polish, not Polish!" (rhymes with "trollish") I thought.

I am the kind of person who wears her heart (and sometimes her interior monologue) on her sleeve. I also prefer not to see my fellow humans in the dark any longer than necessary, so as the woman trailed off quizzically at the end of her answer I explained my mistake. Happily for me, she is the sort of person who laughs when illiterate strangers detail their personal shortcomings at her in the ladies room.