Yes, Anjelah Johnson, There Really is a Tammy’s Nails, but Santa Claus was a No-Show.

Yesterday, I was running some quick errands in order to get out the door for a quick fishing trip to Rockport. I knew if I was in Rockport, I’d be visiting my favorite bait shop, Beacon Bait Shop. Growing up in Galveston, and having a dear friend whose family owned a bait shop, I’m no stranger to the intricate mixture of fish and shrimp smells that meld together to create that special bait shop stench.

I knew I’d make a bait run to Beacon in search of live, slimy shrimp. I haven’t showered in two days and knowing I’m going to get shrimp slime on me anyway gets me out of showering for a third day. Sweet. At Beacon, I expected to see my favorite Bait Diva. I don’t know her name, but she is Vietnamese, as are many of the shrimpers and bait shops along the Texas Gulf Coast. Her little cinderblock hut is painted bright blue and when you walk into the shop, you hear the whir of aerators pumping air into the holding tanks for the shrimp, mullet, piggy perch and other unfortunate sea creatures who are destined to sacrifice themselves for the hunt for The Big One. There is usually some type of music playing as well, which I assume is Vietnamese. The Bait Diva is always there, sloshing through the baywater that covers the shop floor in her blinged-out flip-flops, scooping bait and filling bait buckets for customers. She is always dressed to the hilt in her stylish (if somewhat soggy) flip-flops, capri pants, silk top, full makeup and coiffed hair – all topped off with a traditional Vietnamese straw hat – and jade jewelry, of course- even in the muggy, Gulf Coast weather.

Since I planned to see her, I wanted to appear somewhat presentable, even if I was wearing the same clothes for 3 days. Let’s be honest; some things are cultural – and generational. Small minded as it may sound, I simply wanted to show up with trimmed eyebrows. Is that so wrong? I mean, everytime I show up at the nail salon the Vietnamese techs swarm me, asking, “You want eyebrow wax?” I guess I secretly hoped to impress the Bait Diva.

So, I’m running my errands in Austin and come upon Tammy’s Nail Salon. Yes, just like comedienne Anjelah Johnson says, there really are “Tammys” from Vietnam. Why that name is a common choice for an American moniker, I don’t know. I make a hard right into the driveway of the strip mall, and head into Tammy’s (which is owned by a man, I might add). I am greeted by a lovely Vietnamese woman (with perfectly tattooed eyebrows), who says, “You need pedicure?” “No, I just need my eyebrows waxed,” I reply. “You go to back room.”

Those of you that get your eyebrows waxed know that going to the back room is standard practice. I do as i’m told and go to the back room and lie down on the cot, awaiting my facial hair fate. I wait for about 5 minutes and am really thankful it’s not summer, because I’m in the same room as the waching machines and dryers, and the dryers are going full blast.

The woman who greeted me at the door enters the room. I ask her name. It is Ann (of course). I explain my eyebrow dilemma, and she nods and interjects, “Oh, yes” and “We do good job for you here.” I ask if she thinks I need my upper lip waxed, knowing full well that I don’t. Ann responds, “Oh, yes, we fix.” I have to say, Ann starts trimming my eyebrows and the sales pitch begins, oh so subtlely. “You come to Tammy’s Salon before?” “Yes, once,” I say, “but I live on the other side, so I usually go to a place in my neighborhood.” I swear, that is all the information I gave her. I did not even specify what “other side,” which happens to be about 4 miles away. Ann is waxing and plucking away and much to her credit, waxes the tiny downy hairs below my bottom lip as well. In retrospect, I think it was a stalling tactic. I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head, looking for just the right thing to say.

Finally, Ann found her words. She made small talk, saying things such as “We really glad you try our salon” and “We so friendly here, everybody like.” Finally, she laid it on me, the best sales pitch she had. “Other Side no good. People get hurt there. They come here, like us better than Other Side. Say we do good job.”

I almost busted out laughing, but made it through, ending up with too-thin eyebrows and leaving a decent tip anyway.

Sadly, my plan to impress Bait Diva with trimmed eyebrows was thwarted. Beacon Bait Shop had its iron gates down and is closed until March 31, 2011. Maybe, hopefully, Bait Diva is on a nice, long visit to her homeland and visiting loved ones.

Personally, I can’t wait til she gets back. That smelly shack has become a little ritual for me. In the meantime, I’ll stick with Other Side.

See Anjelah Johnson here.