Auf Wiedersehen, Good night, Peace Out!
Sadly, Maggie’s need for balance in her life means saying goodbye to her Maggie Rants blog.
What is it with men and the smell of our products? I hypothesize that it's entirely a matter of association. Women associate the smell of monomer with trips to the salon, getting their nails done, feeling

What is it with men and the smell of our products?
I hypothesize that it's entirely a matter of association. Women associate the smell of monomer with trips to the salon, getting their nails done, feeling pretty, relieving stress, getting some time for themselves — happy thoughts.
Men associate the smell of monomer with trips to the salon, having to do the dishes because their lady got her nails done, and getting to babysit their own kids while mom gets some precious time for herself — icky girl stuff.
That's my theory.
It's the only plausible reason behind the fact that women love — and men abhor — a smell that would ordinarily be the other way around. What with monomer having a chemical, industrial smell and all, you'd think men would love it and women would only tolerate it for the sake of their nails.
Have you ever walked into a Pep Boys? Or another automotive store? How about a Harbor Freight and Tools? Yeesh! You wanna talk about places that smell?! And tire shops! Yuck. Diesel exhaust, road tar, paper mills... OK. Nobody likes the smell of a paper mill.
The point being is there are just certain industries that men tolerate the smell of. Just shrug it off like they don't even notice.
But whatever you do, don't light a floral candle in your house! They'll run outside choking and sputtering.
What we really need is bacon-scented candles. I bet those would be welcomed with open nostrils! (hint hint Gold Canyon)
Every time a client tows a hubby or bf along with them to their nail appointment, the man in question just can't seem to sit still for five minutes before they are compelled to comment on the smell, almost universally "joking" that I must be high all the time.
Personally, I don't think my monomer smells like any substance that is known for causing a high.
I am just so curious about these gender lines; why even the faintest hint of monomer is enough to roust a male from the security of his office, six doors down the hallway and around the corner, to knock on the closed salon door and insist that the woman working within "needs to do something" about the smell.
And by the way, while I am mostly speaking in generalizations, I also will clarify that we're talking about a single tech sitting next to an open window, not using MMA, without a shared heating/ac system, that most people can't even smell.
I usually smile and tell these boys that there's a specially formulated chemical in our products that appeals to women and repels men. It's our way of keeping them out of our clubhouse.
So to all the men who work in our industry — developing, manufacturing, marketing, distributing, educating, and just plain nailing without complaint — thank you, and you're welcome in the clubhouse.
Sadly, Maggie’s need for balance in her life means saying goodbye to her Maggie Rants blog.
Maggie recalls the time she tried to figure out how to dispose of her salon chemicals.
With a vacation approaching, Maggie can’t wait to put some distance between herself and the drama of the salon.
Maggie doesn’t hesitate to confront clients about past sins.
How sick is too sick for a nail appointment?
Maggie is fed up with clients who won’t get off the phone.
Maggie needs to remind herself that she has options.
Maggie is trading in one writing genre for another.
Maggie knows too much about sanitation to get excited about a strange Jacuzzi tub.
Maggie is no longer certain nails are in her long-term future.
Maggie is learning about the downside of success — scheduling is a nightmare.
Maggie contemplates the limits of her charitable impulses.
Maggie is not too keen on clients bringing in their own nail supplies.
Just because Maggie isn’t with a client doesn’t mean she’s not working.
Twenty-two years of doing nails takes a toll on the hands.
Maggie doesn’t want her product reps dropping by.
Maggie enjoys other people’s drama — up to a point.