Why am I always the last to know these things? Namely... well. Let's see if you can figure out what I learned about my fellow Americans yesteday.
I was out taking pictures for you, and I thought since I was within ten steps of the correct place, I would get my eyebrows threaded. I peered into the window and saw that the salon was empty, so in I went. It was 2:03pm.
At the desk were three Asian women in matching purple shirts. There was a man standing next to the desk in a blue delivery uniform. He was holding a clipboard and stabbing at it with emphasis as he explained the following:
"OK so I start my deliveries at 4am in the neighborhood. So if you leave your containers outside I can pick them up and return them the next day," he stabbed at the clipboard.
"We have delivery at 10am," replied the eldest Asian.
"I start deliveries on this block at 4am," he said again. Again with the stabbing.
"We have delivery at 10am," repeated the elder Asian.
I leaned in a bit. "Hi," I said. "My eyebrows," I said. "Can I get them threaded?"
"Yes, of course," said the younger Asian. Then she turned back to the delivery guy. She was gazing at him as if he were big ol' cherry cheesecake with extra cheese. It was absolutely not subtle.
The elder Asian repeated, "We have delivery at 10am."
I looked at my watch. It was 2:05pm.
"We have delivery at 10am," said the youngest Asian.
The delivery guy laid his clipboard on the desk and pointed with the pen. Then he pointed to his truck - and said, "You see that truck? It is in Yonkers by 10am."
The younger Asian laid her fingertips on his forearm. It was absolutely not subtle. At. All.
He tried again. "I make deliveries in this neighborhood at 4:00am. I am already two boroughs away at 10am."
"We have delivery at 10am," said the eldest Asian. She removed the younger Asian's fingers from the forearm of the delivery guy. That wasn't very subtle either.
I looked at my watch. 2:06pm. The younger Asian tried again.
"Delivery at 10am. New containers," she pointed to the clock. It said 2:07pm. Again she looked at him as if she wanted to rip his pants right off. Opposite of subtlety, there.
The delivery guy looked at me and said, "I am sorry. Can you give us all a moment?"
Oh, hell yes, I thought. Hit you some of that.
"Sure," I said. Then I picked up a copy of Cosmo and walked over to the window. I flipped through the magazine and watched the snow fall.
"We have delivery at 10:am," repeated the three Asians.
"What you are saying," said the delivery guy, "Is that you would like me to drive back here from Yonkers to deliver your water bottles when you open at 10am."
"We have delivery at 10am!" the elder Asian was elated. It was 2:08pm by then.
I turned. Younger Asian was grinning and groping the delivery guy's forearm. She was also gazing longingly at his crotch. It was absolutely... well I think you know by now what it was like.
So I decided to try again. I gestured subtle-like toward my pale blond and uninteresting eyebrows. "Threading?" I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from saying "I HAVE DELIVERY NOW."
Know what? I was completely, totolly, universally ignored. The elder Asian said, "Yes, at 10am!" The younger Asian - I am not kidding - started massaging his shoulders. The youngest Asian smirked and started picking at her cuticles.
It was masterful. The delivery guy hooked his pen into his shirt pocket, crestfallen. "OK," he said. "I come back at 10am."
It was 2:09pm. There was a swirl of purple and blue mutual appreciation in progress at the desk. Nobody in the whole joint cared about me or my eyebrow grooming.
Not wanting to interrupt the orgy of joy, I silently backed out of the salon and took a few more pictures for you.
I can think of at least three useful lessons to be gleaned from my six minutes in the shop yesterday. What do you suppose those lessons were?