I was about to get engaged, and my boyfriend suggested we visit a nearby nail salon. However, when it was time to pay, I was told the bill was thirty thousand dollars. I asked the staff if there was a mistake since I hadn’t agreed to sign up for any membership. “That’s the price. You’re so rich; what’s the big deal about paying it?” she replied smugly. Holding back my anger, I demanded to speak with the manager. But before I could finish, my boyfriend cut in, looking annoyed. “You make millions of dollars a year. Why are you giving this poor girl a hard time? Stop embarrassing yourself.” I could not believe what I heard. I went home, packed all his belongings, and threw them out the door. “My money didn’t fall out of the sky! Goodbye. You jerk! Go with your nail salon girl!” With our engagement photos scheduled for next week, I decided to get my nails done. While browsing online for recommendations, my boyfriend, Orson Hawke, leaned over and suggested a new nail salon in our neighborhood. “The place looks nice. Why don’t I go with you to check it out?” It was rare for him to offer, so I happily agreed. When we arrived at the salon, I noticed a sign on the door: [Grand Opening! Membership Discounts Available!] A young woman who looked like she hadn’t even finished high school greeted me enthusiastically. “Hey, gorgeous! What kind of nails are we doing today?” I glanced at her name tag: Vivienne Grey. Turning around, I saw that Orson hadn’t come inside; he was standing outside, busy on a phone call. I sat down and told her, “Just a simple color manicure.” She gave me a quick once-over, then peered out the door at Orson. “Are you getting married soon? Why not get a fancy manicure?” “Just burgundy,” I replied. She didn’t press further and started working on my nails, trimming and shaping them. But after she had only trimmed two nails, I winced in pain. I suspected that Vivienne might be a trainee; her technique was rough and unrefined. “Could you be a little gentler? That hurt,” I said. “Your natural nails are so ugly I have to fix them properly. Otherwise, they’ll ruin the polish,” she replied loudly, making the other employees glance over. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, feeling a bit offended. I quickly requested a different technician. But as I tried to withdraw my hand, Vivienne held it tightly, smiling as she looked up at me. “I’m the only one here. No one else is available. “By the way, we’re running a promotion: top up one thousand dollars and get five hundred dollars free. Interested in a membership?” I rolled my eyes and ignored her, instead texting my best friend, Eliana Baker: [This salon is a total scam.] After an hour, I stood up to pay. “That’ll be thirty thousand dollars. You can pay by card,” the cashier said casually. I froze. I thought, “Thirty thousand dollars for a solid-color manicure? Surely, it’s a mistake. Maybe Vivienne thought I wanted to buy a membership.” I turned to Vivienne for clarification. She rolled her eyes at me and walked straight to the register, dismissing the cashier. Crossing her arms, she looked at me smugly. “That’s right, thirty thousand dollars.” I stared at her in shock, thinking to myself, “Am I being scammed right now?”
I took a deep breath to compose myself. “I only got a basic solid-color manicure. How is that thirty thousand dollars? Please call your boss, and I’d like to speak with them.” I didn’t want to waste any more time arguing with this girl who looked barely out of her teens. I thought I had spoken politely enough, but Vivienne sneered. “If you have a problem, talk to me. My boss doesn’t have time for this.” Everyone else in the salon kept busy, showing no interest in getting involved. Before I could respond, Vivienne suddenly raised her voice. “Sure, it’s not the most expensive service, but that doesn’t mean you can just skip out on the bill! You look so respectable. How can you try to stiff us like this?” Her voice was so loud it drew the attention of the other customers. Even Orson, who was sitting at the door playing on his phone, walked over to check what was going on. I explained the situation to Orson and said to Vivienne, “I need to speak to her boss. This place is scamming me.” I glanced around the salon, but the other employees continued to mind their own business as if nothing was happening. Vivienne came out from behind the register and sidled up to Orson. “Handsome, how can you let your girlfriend act like this? Can’t you calm her down? She’s almost 30, throwing a tantrum over a manicure bill.” She leaned closer to Orson as she spoke, her behavior reminiscent of a cat in heat. The sight made me sick. “Your prices are shady, and you won’t let me speak to your boss?” Then I turned to Orson. “And do you think he’s on your side just because you’re being inappropriate? He’s my boyfriend.” I was sure Orson would take my side, but to my shock, he placed a hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Enough,” he said, his eyes showing a hint of disdain. “Just pay the bill, and let’s leave. There’s no need to make a scene.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought, “I’m the one being ripped off here. Why should I pay? As a consumer, is it shameful to stand up for my rights in a situation like this?” “No way! I refuse to accept this price. I need to talk to their boss to find out how this charge was determined,” I said firmly. Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Vivienne’s eyes reddened, and tears began streaming down her face. She wiped them away stubbornly and looked at Orson. “Why do you have to make things so hard for me? I’m just a staff…” The more she spoke, the more tears she shed; it seemed like she was performing in some tragic drama. I turned to Orson, hoping he’d finally see reason. “Do you really think this price is fair? Do you also think this is my fault?”
Vivienne stood there with an innocent, pitiful look, as if she had suffered some great injustice. I was speechless. “All I asked was to speak to your boss. When did I ever make things difficult for you?” She had the face of someone clever, but she couldn’t seem to understand plain words. Orson, on the other hand, looked genuinely distressed by Vivienne’s apparent misery. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he pulled out his card. “Stop making this hard for her. Fine, I’ll pay. Happy now?” I tried to snatch his card but he dodged me. “Making things hard for her? What do you mean by that, Orson? This is thirty thousand dollars, not three thousand! No one is paying anything!” I snapped. “I want a reasonable explanation for this price today. If she can extort me like this, how many other people will she scam in the future?” Besides, if I really paid the money, I’d basically be admitting that I was trying to cheat her out of it in the first place. Orson was never like this. I felt there was something off about him today. “Adalyn, what’s gotten into you today?” he asked, his tone annoyed. I glared at him, stunned that my boyfriend was siding with someone else. “Don’t be mad, handsome. I’ll just take the blame for today’s incident,” Vivienne said tearfully. “I’ll pay for this myself, okay? Sure, I’m just a poor working girl, so I deserve to be cheated out of my time, right?” Vivienne practically shouted that last part at me. Her loud voice attracted more onlookers, who began to surround us and chatter among themselves. “She’s dressed so well. Does she really look like someone who can’t afford it?” “Some people these days, I tell you…” “Just pay already. Look how upset you’ve made that poor girl.” “That girl worked on her nails for over an hour. How can she say something so heartless?” Soon, even two middle-aged women were scolding me, saying I had no manners and no decency. I couldn’t believe it. I thought, “Is money so easy to earn these days? Thirty thousand dollars for a manicure, and no one even bats an eye?” When I noticed someone at the door filming with their phone, I realized that if I didn’t resolve this properly, it might blow up online. I took a deep breath and addressed Vivienne, who was still crying. “I’m not trying to make things difficult for you, nor am I refusing to pay. I just want to understand the pricing for this manicure. “As a consumer, it’s not wrong to protect my rights, is it? “You keep accusing me of trying to skip out on the bill. Frankly, I think you’re the one acting in bad faith.” At some point, Vivienne had moved to stand next to Orson. Still crying, she said in a trembling voice, “Handsome, do you think I did anything wrong? “I worked so hard for over an hour, and now I’m being bullied… Just because she’s a white-collar worker, she thinks she’s above people like me?” I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw the back of my skull. As more and more people gathered around, Orson’s face showed increasing impatience. He shoved me aside and said, “Enough already. Why are you causing such a scene? “You make millions of dollars a year, and you’re yelling over such a small amount? Aren’t you embarrassed?” The onlookers, emboldened by Orson’s attitude, began to attack me verbally even more. I was furious. “Exactly. Why make life hard for a young girl? If you’re broke, why even bother getting your nails done?” “I don’t understand young people these days, and they just love taking advantage of others.” I thought, “It’s bad enough that strangers aren’t on my side. But why is Orson siding with her, too?” Seeing Vivienne’s tear-streaked face, her smugness barely hidden beneath it, I wanted to slap her. But logic held me back. “My money doesn’t fall from the sky! Is it so wrong for me to ask for the breakdown of this bill? You just open your mouth and tell me to pay, but whose boyfriend are you supposed to be, exactly?” Orson reached out, trying to drag me out of the store, but I shook off his hand. Just then, one of the women in the crowd muttered under her breath, “Make millions of dollars a year, but she wants to skip out on an 89.9-dollar manicure? She shouldn’t bother next time.” Her words made me freeze. I turned and asked, “Did you say a solid-color manicure costs 89.9 dollars?” Vivienne, now visibly panicked, raised her voice. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore! Forget the money; just leave, okay? I’ll take the loss for today. Is that enough?” Her words made her intentions crystal clear. Vivienne’s expression turned sour as she stepped forward, seemingly trying to grab me. I shook her off immediately. When I refused to leave, she turned to Orson, her face pitiful once more. “Fine, handsome. I won’t take the money. Just get her out of here so I can go back to work, okay?” “Let’s go,” Orson urged me. “She’s not taking the money. Let’s not drag this out anymore.” But what Orson said wasn’t right. If I left now, it would look like I was guilty of what they were accusing me of. If the person who was recording at the door had posted that video, I would have been doxxed and harassed online.
The more I thought about how quickly Vivienne’s attitude had changed, the more suspicious I became. “That woman just now said a solid-color manicure is 89.9 dollars. So why were you charging me thirty thousand dollars?” I held up my hands for everyone to see. “This is the most basic design, no embellishments, nothing extra. And I didn’t sign up for a membership. “So what’s the extra charge for? “If your shop sets that price for everyone, fine. But why is it 89.90 dollars for others and thirty thousand dollars for me?” Everyone stared at my nails in silence, saying nothing. I continued, “Are your hands so special, or did you think I’d be an easy mark? If you can’t explain this, I’ll report your shop immediately!” Orson tried again to pull me away, but I blocked him and warned in a low voice, “Don’t touch me.” Vivienne’s expression shifted; gone was her pitiful demeanor. “You’re lying!” she shouted. “I never said thirty thousand dollars! “You’re just making excuses because you don’t want to pay. And you kept insisting on speaking to my manager.” I almost laughed out loud. “Wow, this girl is good at twisting things,” I thought. I turned to Orson and asked, “You heard her earlier? How much did she say it was?” I knew he thought I was being embarrassing right now, but he had also heard Vivienne’s claim earlier. To my shock, he said, “I don’t know.” The crowd erupted in murmurs again. “What’s going on here?” “Is this girl trying to scam someone?” I remembered the cashier from earlier but couldn’t see him anywhere. Pulling out my phone, I prepared to call the police. “Do you really have to make such a big deal out of this?” Orson stepped in again. “She’s just a young girl working hard to make a living.” I sneered at him, “If she really understood how hard life is, she wouldn’t be pulling a stunt like this! Yes, I’m going to make a big deal out of it. “Let everyone see how this shop cheats its customers! I thought, “If we can’t resolve this here, I’ll take it to law enforcement!”
After I made the call, Orson completely lost it. He snatched my phone and threw it to the ground. “Adalyn Creed! What the hell are you doing? Are you out of your mind!?” I froze, stunned by his outburst. I knew Orson cared a lot about appearances, but his behavior today was unusually erratic. Calmly, I started piecing things together. He was the one who brought me to this salon, and his words had consistently supported Vivienne. And now, he was panicking because I had called the police. “Is Orson hiding something from me?” I wondered. I turned to him and asked directly, “Are you two working together to scam me?” The room went silent. “Vivienne, you’d better come clean before the police get here,” someone chimed in. “Are you two really in on this together?” “Girl, I’m with you. Let’s wait for the cops!” Vivienne, overwhelmed by the speculation, finally snapped and started screaming. “Fine! Talk about me if you want, but why drag him into it? Okay, maybe I made a mistake with the bill. Happy now? “I don’t even want the money anymore! It’s all my fault. Is that enough for you?” Crying, she tore off her work jacket and ran out the door. “Vivi!” Orson glared at me, grabbed her jacket from the floor, and ran after her. I stood there awkwardly, watching my boyfriend chase after another woman. “Wait, was that girl your boyfriend’s or yours?” someone asked. “What kind of shop is this? It’s terrifying.” “People always say big shops scam customers, but even new ones are pulling this crap?” Amid the chatter, the cashier from earlier reappeared. Everyone turned to him with questions. “Vivienne said the customer wanted to sign up for a membership,” he explained. I thought, “Oh, so that’s it! Vivienne was trying to pocket the difference.” Looking at the two of them, now long gone, I realized something wasn’t adding up. Just then, the police arrived. I stepped outside to look for Orson, only to find him with Vivienne under a tree near the shop, cozying up. Orson was holding her in his arms, gently kissing her hair and whispering something I couldn’t hear. I pulled out my phone and recorded a short video. Then I went back into the shop, grabbed my water bottle, and returned outside. Walking straight up to them, I poured the water over their faces. “Are you insane? What’s your problem!?” Orson shouted. Looking at the disheveled Vivienne, I smirked, “Had enough sneaking around? Good. The police are here.”
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