When I go, you will know my cause of death: Acrylic Nails

I went to get my nails done today after work. Its something I do every two or three weeks. I go to a cute little salon just a few blocks from my apartment. Its not cheap, but I like having nice looking hands and I figure I can allow myself this little luxury. Or can't I?

Tonight, as I sat down in front of the technician she asks me how I am and starts to set up her equipment. Out of her kit she pulls a surgical mask, puts it over her nose and mouth and hooks the sides around her ears. She flips the little desktop fan on and points it right towards me. Then she starts to drill.

She mumbles something behind the mask, but I cant understand her. The material and the accent aren't working well together.

Then she says something in another language to the technician sitting next to her.

I still cant understand her, but I'm sure she says: 'A couple more visits and this one is a goner'