There once was a woman named Tuka,
Who worked magic on foot and on hand,
And anyone who took a good looka
Could see she was best in the land.
Cherry red, French, or ballet pink,
She polished with care and with glee,
Which is why, when she had a spare eye-blink,
The Ladies Who Lunch begged, “Now me!”
But though Tuka was loved and adored,
The salon got too big for its britches,
So finally she cut the cord
And said, “I’ll see ya later, you … guys.”
The polishing pied piper she became,
As her clients have all since stampeded
To the spot that now bears her name
And a price that has never impeded.
With nails, waxing, and (soon) cuts so sassy,
And the brilliant touch of dear Tuka,
You’ll leave every time looking classy
And never, ever resembling a hooka.
Tuka Nails Bar, inside The Carriage House, 5401 Collins Avenue, unit 3u11d, Miami Beach (305-993-1855).










