My future in-laws visited us for about two weeks and they flew back to Vermont Monday. While they were here, MainMan wanted to treat his mom to a belated anniversary/birthday trip to the spa. We Googled salons in our zip code and found a couple spots just down the street on Washington. We figured convenience was key, but after looking at pictures online these neighboring places seemed more geared toward teenyboppers. I didn’t want FMIL (future mother in law) to walk in and sit among tweens getting their nails did.
Upon further research, hopping from Yelp to various websites, we came across Queen Bee Salon and Spa. It looked adorable and felt like just the right spot for FMIL. I love anything with British flair and they had chairs draped in the Union Jack.
(While MainMan’s parents were here they discussed alternatives to the term “in-law,” since it does have a negative connotation. I adore them, and I think they know that, but until we come up with a better, more fun name for them, FMIL is how I will name them here.)
FMIL got her nails done and seemed to be very pleased with her experience, though she did admit to having some concern when they pulled up. The building, from the outside, she said, seemed a bit strange. I’d have to go see for myself.
Knowing my engagement ring was soon to be on my finger permanently, I decided I needed to get a manicure. I called QB in the morning, just because it seemed like a place you’d need to call ahead vs. just walking in and sitting down. The friendly girl on the other end of the phone said they didn’t have anything until 4. Whoa. Worse than I anticipated. I begged and pleaded and she said the nail girl could squeeze me in at 2:30 if that worked. SOLD!
I raced over after my last doggie walk and, minus the screen door (which definitely added a feel of ghetto to the outside), everything seemed OK to me. A couple of girls greeted me with welcoming smiles and we discussed it was my first time, which made them seem almost giddy. I also mentioned we sent FMIL a few days prior and she really enjoyed it.
“Can we get you anything to drink?”
“I think I’m OK,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Well, actually, what are the options?” I corrected myself instantly. If a spa offers you beverages, you ask what they have.
“Tea, coffee, water, wine?”
I came to the right place.
“Well… it is only 2:30, but I just got engaged so… wine it is!” I exclaimed.
We walked through a hallway and out the door, through a pebbled garden patio with tables and umbrellas, and into another building. There I sat in a small room to wait for Connie.
I picked two colors to mix together. She looked at them and tested them out on my fingers.
“Yikes!” I said to one, which looked more like white-out than nail polish.
“I’ll pick you a color. I can see what you’re going for,” said Connie.
We just met, but I trusted her.
We chatted for about 20 minutes. It was the most memorable of manicures. She was lovely and very proud of where she worked. She’d previously been at the Four Seasons and it sounded like she handled her share of divas. When I finished she gave me a tour of the different rooms, a few for massages, facials and waxing.
“Make sure you read the magazines in the entrance-way! The owner Jodi Shays is in a bunch,” she said.
I took her up on it and to my surprise nearly 75% of the write-ups mentioned a Connie Flagg. It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth one I read that it dawned on me. THE Connie Flagg in these articles just did my nails. How cool!
I have never had a facial, but they sounded pretty amazing, and particularly necessary leading up to the day where you want your face to look the best it’s ever looked in your life. I know I will be returning to Queen Bee Salon for nails and more. I mean, it doesn’t get better than wine with your mani/pedi. Or does it?