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The Nail Tech Who Talks About Sex Too Much at Work

Photo-Illustration: Marylu Herrera

In this week’s story, a woman in an open relationship goes on her weekly date and tells her colleagues all about it the next day: 32, in a relationship, New York. 

DAY ONE

7:45 a.m. I’m still shook from last night. We had a good-bye party for a colleague and she drank too much and completely villainized me. She told me that I talk too much at work — I’m a nail tech at a spa and salon — and that I’m a turn off, and she lost clients because of me. Waiting for my boyfriend to wake up so I can unload on him. He was asleep when I got home last night.

8 a.m. He’s finally awake. I tell him about the drama. He leaves to take a shower mid-story. This annoys me. I sit at the kitchen table feeling alone. When he comes out, I’m like, “Do you even care?” He feigns interest but I’m over it and don’t tell him the rest. Instead I put on a sports bra and go for a jog.

11 a.m. My boyfriend is at work. He works in middle management at a toy company. I don’t have to be at the salon until noon, so I send my first text of the day to Michael. I’ve been sleeping with Michael for a few months, and I’ve been with my boyfriend for three years. My boyfriend and I are technically open but we haven’t really explored new people until recently. Actually, as far as I know, my boyfriend hasn’t been with anyone since meeting me, and Michael is the first person I’ve been with since meeting my boyfriend. However, my boyfriend travels a bit for work and I never ask what he gets into when he is in, like, Columbus, Ohio. Who knows? Who cares?

3 p.m. Work is busy as always. I never have a chance to look at my phone. It makes me horny knowing there are probably dick pics from Michael awaiting me. We met on Feeld. He’s married, lives in Jersey, and I really, really like him. We see each other once a week. On Wednesdays — hump day, of course!

7 p.m. I have clients until late tonight. Something about Mondays. Girls like getting their nails done on Mondays. Sets the tone for the week, I guess.

9:30 p.m. Finally I’m done at work. I sit at my little station and start texting with Michael. Sure enough, I get several heated texts and one gorgeous dick pic. I love, love, love this guy’s junk. It’s the only part about him I don’t tell my boyfriend about … I don’t want to rub it in.

11 p.m. In bed with my boyfriend. We have sex even though I’m not feeling him right now. We’re just really disconnected. The sex is fine, and I tell him I’m seeing Michael on Wednesday, in case he wants to go out. He’s like “Have fun.” I think maybe he’s depressed. Our communication is terrible at the moment. I think we’re both sick of each other, to be honest.

DAY TWO

9 a.m. I was hired to do nails at a PR event today. This firm invited a bunch of influencers into their office and one perk is a free manicure. It’s good business for me to make contacts with the influencers so I’m excited as I set up my station.

12 p.m. Oof, some of these publicists are pretty brutal. The influencers are cool, I’d be friends with a few of them.

4 p.m. One of the influencers invited me to a store opening she’s going to tonight. It’s like a store/gallery/bar situation in Nolita. I leave work just in time to go home, change, and head that way. I won’t know anyone but that’s okay. I don’t have a lot of friends and live a pretty private life, so I’m good riding solo.

6 p.m. The “event” is very quiet. There are just a handful of people here. The influencer girl doesn’t even show up.

8 p.m. After two drinks, I’m pooped. I text Michael a picture of me in my little sequined dress from the bathroom. He texts back and asks for something better, so I go into a stall, take my underwear down, and put my fingers on my pussy. You know I have nice nails so this picture is a beauty. I send it off. Too bad I can’t post it on the ’gram; my nails look hot!

10 p.m. Michael and I are sexting like crazy now that I’m home and in the comfort of my apartment. My boyfriend is watching TV in our bedroom so I’m freely fingering myself and rubbing my tits for Michael on the couch. My boyfriend walks in the room and asks what I’m doing and I flash him my pussy, so he comes over and goes down on me. He’s very good at this, which is why it’s hard for me to hate him sometimes.

10:30 p.m. I come, say thank you, take a shower, and go right to sleep.

DAY THREE

10 a.m. I spilled coffee on my shirt on the way to work. It’s really bad and I don’t have a replacement at the salon. Appearance is important in my industry so I feel embarrassed. I text my sister to see if she can bring me a shirt since she lives near here. She says she’ll be 30 mins.

10:30 a.m. My sister arrives while I’m working on someone’s nails. I introduce them and my sister and I chitchat a little. We are both in weird relationships. My sister is queer and has a straight boyfriend and it’s never going to work. My client looks annoyed that we’re talking and I have flashbacks of that horrible ex-colleague saying I talk too much and too loudly. I feel very insecure in this moment. I tell my sister to leave, in a nice way, and quietly go back to doing nails.

1:30 p.m. I have a quick break from work and text Michael about tonight. He has a little apartment in the city that is basically his fuck pad. Well, technically it’s an investment property he bought for his kids someday. I know … it’s kind of icky that we fuck in his kids’ future home but whatever. We used to have dinner first but now we just meet there. I want to get right to the sex. Tonight he suggests we grab a bite, first, however. This makes me anxious. I hope he doesn’t want to talk about anything serious. I love what we have and don’t want anything about it to change.

4 p.m. I’m trying very hard not to be chatty at work. Everyone in the salon and spa department here knows I’m in an open relationship. I think they judge me, or maybe my sheer existence makes them wonder if their husbands are cheating.

7 p.m. By the time I get home to shower for Michael, I really need a drink and a fuck. My boyfriend isn’t home and we don’t text to check in. Wednesdays are my nights and he knows that. I would be totally thrilled if he was on a date or getting laid. My only rule with him is to wear protection.

8:30 p.m. I meet Michael at a wine bar near his fuck pad. He’s ordered a bunch of apps and is sipping wine when I arrive. I’m like, “Did you want to talk about something?” And he’s like, “No! I just knew we’d both be hungry since we both worked all day.” I was worried about nothing. We eat and kiss and sip wine.

9:30 p.m. I’m ready for sex before he even unlocks the door. We head straight for his bed, try out a few different positions, and I end up coming from being on top and riding him really hard. It’s such a good orgasm that I worry I’ll have no voice tomorrow from the screaming. I guess my colleagues would like that!

10:30 p.m. We never do sleepovers. It’s just not our style. We kiss good-bye, he puts me in a car, and that is that.

DAY FOUR

8 a.m. My boyfriend rolls over in bed and asks how my date was. I’m like, “Do you want details?” He says, “Not really!” So I tell him it was really nice. I ask what he did last night and he said he went to a basketball game with his brother. It sounds like they had fun. Nothing about my date is weird to him … I know it’s hard to imagine that, but it’s just how we roll.

10 a.m. I was right, my voice is shot. When I get to work, I’m pretty hoarse. I tell a hairstylist who I’m friends with that it’s because I had a screaming orgasm last night. I know, TMI! I can’t help myself.

1 p.m. The manager of the spa asks me to grab a coffee. I get a pit in my stomach. Am I getting fired? We run down the street and she tells me that my sex stories are making staff and customers uncomfortable. Is she serious? It’s a New York City hair salon. What do people expect? She reminds me that it’s also a spa, which means the etiquette is a little bit different.  Apparently someone getting a massage recently heard me blabbing about sex. I cringe at myself. I tell her I’m done talking at work, and we seem to put it to bed.

4 p.m. I’m in a bad mood for the rest of the day. It’s not a good feeling knowing everyone around you hates you.

6 p.m. I go home early, happy that my last client canceled.

7 p.m. My boyfriend and I get home around the same time. I cry to him a little bit about work. He comforts me. Sometimes we really know how to show up for each other. He makes me dinner, then we relax on the couch.

DAY FIVE

8 a.m. I call in sick today. I have to reevaluate my work situation and need some time to think. I went into nails with the hopes of opening my own business some day. Now I’m in my early 30s with no business plan. I got too comfortable in my current job.

11:30 p.m. I am just relaxing and watching TV. I’ve texted a few friends in the industry to see who is hiring, so that’s progress. No one has written back yet.

3 p.m. I end up browsing the apps for a few hours. There’s one guy, Rich, who seems cute and interesting. He wants to meet up this week but I tell him I have to get back to him. My plate feels full with my boyfriend and Michael, but I should take advantage of being young and open. One day I want to have kids so this lifestyle won’t be forever. I’m still not sure if my boyfriend is my forever person. We have good and bad days. Something is missing with him recently, but he’s also under a lot of work and family stress so I’m trying to give him grace.

6 p.m. I make dinner for my boyfriend since it’s Friday night and that’s one of our rituals. We have lasagna and salad.

8 p.m. Over dinner my boyfriend tells me he thinks he’s getting fired from his job. They’re downsizing. Suddenly the mood is ruined. If we both lose our jobs we are royally fucked. We have cheap rent because his uncle owns this building, but it’s not nothing.

10 p.m. We go to bed stressed and worried and neither are in the mood for sex.

DAY SIX 

10 a.m. My boyfriend and I go grocery shopping together.  We decide to have friends over tomorrow night so we have fun creating a little menu together. By menu I mean beer and chips, pretty much! I Google a homemade guacamole recipe and throw in the ingredients for that.

2 p.m. I spend an hour on my phone inviting the right friends over. I am still close with my high-school friends — I grew up in the city, and my boyfriend is close to his college friends. We invite a few people over who we think might hit it off romantically. It’s nice to take our minds off our work.

6 p.m. We have sex before going to the movies together. It starts because I walked out of the shower and he was sitting on our bed, and I just went over and climbed on top of him.  Sometimes I’m amazed how free and easy it is to just fuck my boyfriend whenever I want.

11 p.m. Home from the movies. We saw Anora. I fell asleep during it. I’m getting old.

DAY SEVEN

9 a.m. Morning sex. I love morning sex. Everything is so warm and juicy and I like starting the day with a big, fat orgasm.

11:30 a.m. We’re deep cleaning the house. We have about eight people coming tonight, and I want our bathroom to sparkle.

3 p.m. While bonding and getting ready for our party tonight, we talk about our open relationship a little bit. My boyfriend says he considers us “closed” since he is devoted to me alone. I ask him if my relationship with Michael hurts him and he says he’s fine with it because he sees how happy and balanced it makes me feel. I feel so seen and respected at this moment. I ask him if he wants to change anything about our status and he says at some point he wants to talk about the future — marriage, babies — and I tell him I’d like that.

5 p.m. Our friends start to come over. My guacamole came out so well.

9 p.m. The party is rocking. I lit candles. Booze is flowing. There is one weird moment where someone asks if we’re swingers. It’s one of my boyfriend’s friends. I try to explain that we’re “open” and it’s different.  But this guy is a little bit drunk and he won’t drop the swingers thing. I let it go, as I can tell my boyfriend doesn’t want to talk about it, but I know that I don’t like that guy anymore.

11:30 p.m. Our last guest left. I’m so tired! It was a fun night. I have a pit in my stomach thinking about work tomorrow, and I have no good leads on a new job, but at least we had a nice weekend.

Want to submit a sex diary? Email sexdiaries@nymag.com and tell us a little about yourself (and read our submission terms here).

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