Vietnamese Plus English Plus Spanish Equals Awesome

The Owner's Brother has some English, but mostly it pertains only to the running of a nail salon.

I can't understand him 50% of the time.

I don't think he can understand me 50% of the time, either.

But together, that equals 100% and that means it's been a berry goo con-ba-say-shun.

Last night as I was preparing to leave the spa, a little Mexican family walked in the door.

Two 10-ish-year-old girls and their father, who obviously didn't speak English.

One of the girls asked, "Do you do kid's nails?"

The Owner's Brother was confused.

Kid's hair?  Yes, go round corner, kid's hair, yes!

I said, "No, dude (because even though his English is poor, he understands "dude"), they want a manicure."

Oh, yes, manicure, manicure, we do.

By this point, The Owner had taken notice of the situation.

He basically came sprinting to the front desk shouting, "Dos?  Dos?", pointing to the two girls.

The girls just stood there while the father seemed very grateful for the assistance.

"Si, dos."

The Owner then began gesturing at the massive collection of nail polish and shouting, "CA-LEAR!  CA-LEAR!"

I tried as hard as I could to suppress my laughter.

By now, not one single person in the conversation had any idea what was going on, what with all the Vietnamese, English, and "Spanish" that was being thrown around.

I pulled one of the girls aside and said, "He wants you to pick your polish color, sweetie."

The Owner's Brother piped up and yelled, "AH!  BLANCO!", and then started to giggle uncontrollably with the glee that he'd just made a massive and helpful contribution.

In the end, the girls got what they wanted, even if they both looked highly uncertain sitting in the manicure chairs.

I walked over to The Owner, fist bumped him, and joking around with him, I said, "I didn't know you speak Spanish!"

He looked back and me and proudly said, "SI!"

Then I told him he owes me $30.

He said, "Ok.  I get for you."

No, I meant $50.

Ok, I get for you.