A dark spot on a white sheet...

I was interviewing a girl at work yesterday. A very nice girl who belongs to a rare breed of Marwari with dress sense.

While talking to her, I suddenly noticed her nails. Her nails, with only patches of once vibrant and lush nail polish left, were looking like an old weather washed wood fence. That nail polish, mutilated by scratches and bite marks, clinging on to the nail for dear life, was a sore spot in her, otherwise impeccable, appearance. It was like a teeny little bird dropping on a shiny new car. I wished she had either removed it completely or re-touch it to its full glory.

I know it’s none of my business, but, half peeled nail-polish looks quite ugly. It’s as bad and noticeable as patchy lipstick. I do notice such unintentional abstract art on nails from time to time and every time I do, I feel bad for the woman because her effort to look pleasant is spoilt by one little oversight.

Anyways, she was rejected due to her salary expectations...