Unless it's someone I know well, I always book half an hour for a repair. And if it's someone I know well, then I'll know well enough whether I can shove that person into 10 or 15 minutes or not.
Because when they call, it's "just one nail." It "cracked across the top" or "chipped on the corner." But when they are actually sitting in your chair, it's, "Oh yeah, and then that one broke" or "Can you change the polish too? I already took it off for you" or "While I'm here, could you shorten them too?" Or any number of other "small" requests that turn an anticipated 10-minute repair into a half-hour service.
Nevertheless, when a client calls for a repair, it's my intention to get her in for the fix as soon as possible. I can't always make it happen, but I really do try to find a spot within 24 hours of hearing about the mishap.
And so this afternoon when the client who had just been here texted to let me know that she got home only to notice that the gel polish was already peeling in one spot on one of her nails. Naturally, I was mortified! So I scrutinized my schedule, willing the teensiest space to magically open up to fix it pronto. The best I could come up with was a spot tomorrow afternoon (mind you, I don't actually see clients on Wednesdays), but she informed me that she would be out of town tomorrow. So I gave today's schedule my best magic-glare, took an anxiety-ridden gulp and offered a spot between two clients this evening that I hoped would be sympathetic.
That's when I got the reply that she was leaving out of town "right now," as in, right that second. It became clear that she didn't actually expect me to fix her nail today. She actually wanted to stop by sometime Thursday.
Oh. Well it hadn't actually occurred to me that she might be willing to wait two to three days to fix the nail that she had had done just an hour previous to her text. Usually people are more demanding than that.
So the pressure is off — but I'll have to chide her about being so easy-going when I see her on Friday.