NAIL POLISH.

This is all I can remember:

I was shopping at a department store like Wal-mart or Target or something, and it felt the way it does when you're shopping late at night at a chain department store. I felt uneasy; I think it is because I was worried the store might close before I could gather all the items on my list. I browsed through rows of nail polish. I couldn't find the proper color of electric-y/royal purple. Ryan suggested a pearly one with an anemic tinge of purple that almost neared white. I immediately disliked it. Nonetheless, to demonstrate pale colors plus my skin tone equals horse shit, I still applied some on the index and pinky fingernails of my left hand . I said, "See Ryan, this looks like horsehit." He agreed. I used a little acetone to remove the polish but it was stubborn. I must have finished the rest of my shopping excursion with two fingernails still stained pearly like the white, the whites of your e-e-e-eyes.