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Margot
I walk Buster down the path, and my dog yips and yaps at every single squirrel.
“Down Buster!” I command futilely. “Down, down!”
Of course, he doesn’t answer. My friendly golden retriever turns his head to smile at me and then wags his tail so hard that I swear he’s going to knock me over as it bangs against my calves.
“Buster, noooo!” I cry out as he lunges for another gray squirrel. This squirrel is smart though. He scampers to a tree, and then stops and literally taunts my dog while sniffing at an acorn. The squirrel’s little ears twitch and his nose seems to wrinkle while those black beady eyes stare at my dog. Of course, Buster goes wild. He barks, jumps and yips while straining at his leash. But the squirrel is just out of his ambit and I won’t let my dog get any closer.
You see, Buster is smart but he’s not that smart. I thought golden retrievers were supposed to be the geniuses of the dog world, but when I picked up Buster from the kennel, I could already tell that this puppy was no Einstein. He tried to eat my shoelaces, and when those proved difficult, he moved on to the rug in my car and then the silver canteen that I use to hold water. Yes, my canteen. It’s made of aluminum and as hard as nuts, but Buster the puppy took a try at gnawing it and now the canteen has his teeth marks permanently etched into the surface.
But I love my dog because my life is honestly pretty boring. I’m Margot Morgan, age twenty-five, and I work a boring job at Pretty Pink Nail Salon. Yes, I’m a nail tech and I know what you’re thinking. Why did I spend four years and countless thousands of dollars on college if all I’m doing now is polishing rich ladies’ nails?
The answer is because Pretty Pink Nail Salon is more than just your average salon. Pretty Pink specializes in nail art, including gels, tie-dye effects, glitter, sparkles, and my favorite, diamante rhinestones. It sounds crazy, but my favorite design ever was a Disney-themed Nemo pattern that I did for a fashionable socialite in her twenties. She thought it was crazy when I suggested the aquatic theme, but after her nails were done, she Instagrammed them instantly and got tons of likes.
As a result, I consider myself an artist of sorts. Maybe not a high-end artist like Picasso or Georgia O’Keefe, but still an artist in my own way. I like crafting beautiful nails, and it feels nice when one of my customers walks out of the salon refreshed, relaxed, and feeling confident in herself.
Even more, I like the money I make. Pretty Pink customers pay top dollar for my work, and I get lots of cash tips. Plus, my designs last three weeks tops, so clients have to come in on a periodic basis to get their nails re-done. After five years at this, I have a steady stream of regulars who walk through the door requesting my services.
But yeah, that still leaves the problem of my student loans. Even with my generous salary, I’m still struggling under the weight of tens of thousands of dollars. It’s a long story. Unfortunately, at eighteen, I wasn’t smart enough to go to my local state school with its crazy cheap prices. Instead, I enrolled at Wesleyan Kenyon, a small private school nearby that charges an arm and a leg for tuition. Like most students, I figured that my student loans would become a problem for “future me.” Well, guess what? Now Future Margot is here and it’s tough. I’m able to make a partial payment every month, but my understanding is that I’m only paying down the interest on the loan. I haven’t made a dent in the principal at all. Plus, after five years of writing monthly checks, it seems like my burden has only grown, if you can believe it. When I graduated, I owed thirty thousand to the student loan gods, but now it seems I owe forty thousand. How is that even possible?
I shake my head, completely confounded. It seems crazy that I’m working at a nail salon making good money, and still unable to afford an adult lifestyle. By that, I mean a car that doesn’t break down every other month, the option of buying fresh groceries and not just canned food, and the ability to afford movies at the theater once in a while instead of binging on Netflix because it’s cheap.
Even more, I’ve been doing something that I’m a little bit ashamed of. Sometimes when I’m really hungry, I go onto one of the dating websites and check my profile. I’m not active on these sites, but I keep a photo and a bio up just in case Mr. Right is out there. I scan through my Inbox as my stomach growls and sometimes, I pick a man to have dinner with. Isn’t that so awful? Honestly though, hunger can make you do anything and sometimes, I just need a square meal. On certain nights, a frozen burrito isn’t enough anymore, and I need someone else to pay for the calories I’m lacking. It’s a terrible use of these dating websites, but again, hunger will make you do anything.
