I’m such a clod. No, really, I am. A friend invited me to go get a pedicure together, and I thought that would be a good idea. It was lots of fun. But I felt sort of like an elephant in a china shop...or was the a bull? It doesn’t matter.
The first thing I did wrong, is that I wore normal shoes and socks. My friend came out wearing flip flops, which is a logical thing to wear when one is going to get a pedi. It just never occurred to me. I figured they had magical toenail polish drying wands or something.
So, we get to the salon, which was lovely, and in a rather arty part of town, in a refurbished victorian house. Lovely atmosphere. The chairs were big and decently comfortable, with a foot tub attached to the base. It was all very nice. So I picked a color and a foot lotion, and the lady led me to a chair and I rolled up my pants, took off my shoes and socks (of the brown sweaty variety) and sat down. The water was blissfully hot and felt great everywhere except that one spot where I accidentally cut my foot open the other day when I set up the ironing board-with it’s metal base/sharp edge on my foot and made it bleed. The part that was still healing burned like the dickens. But ah, I am great at ignoring pain, so I went into bliss mode and decided to enjoy myself.
A nice Asian lady sat down and started working on my feet. Perhaps she did not speak English. The young man working on my friend’s feet did, though, and we all chatted. My lady had a pinched look on her face. Although I had shaved the fur off my toes before going, my toenails took her twice as long to trim, shape and repair as the attention required for my friend’s toenails. I didn’t really look when the brought out the sharp cuticle trimming instruments. Oh no, can’t look at that!
Then there was the massage, gel. Oh dear goodness, they are gonna massage all the way up to my KNEES???? Ordinarily, for a person with experience this would not be so bad...but me, never having done this before....well, I shaved half way up to my knees. Oh dear oh dear oh dear!
The pinchy look turned into a grim pinchy look. Oh dear. She kept working, though.
So eventually all the scrubbing and buffing and massaging and polishing comes to an end. I get presented with a pair of disposable flip flops (thank goodness!) and she paints my toenails. Lovely coral pink.
Then it’s time to move over to the drying station. I climb down. I pick up my purse and the bottom of my purse smears across my left big toe. Oh dear oh dear oh dear! I sheepishly tell the lady what I did...and stick my foot back on the base of the chair and she re-paints that toenail. Trust ME to botch a professional nail painting job. So I got my purse, my jacket, my shoes...and head over to the drying stand. A minute later, here comes the nice young man that did my friend’s feet...with my ugly sweaty brown socks that had fallen out of my shoes.
Oh dear oh dear oh dear!
“Oh, sorry about that. Thanks.” I don’t look him in the eye. I stuff them into my purse as fast as I can.
Needless to say, I left a big tip.
I’ve alway joked about needing a farrier instead of a pedicure. The reason is, that one of the symptoms of low thyroid is really thick and cracking skin on your feet. There’s a medical reason for the horror. This morning I woke up and found a spot on my feet that cracked during the night. This happens from time to time. So now I have cute toenails and a giant bandage on the side of my foot.
I think I need to do this again someday, though. I could get addicted. And next time, I won’t be such a clod. I promise.
The first thing I did wrong, is that I wore normal shoes and socks. My friend came out wearing flip flops, which is a logical thing to wear when one is going to get a pedi. It just never occurred to me. I figured they had magical toenail polish drying wands or something.
So, we get to the salon, which was lovely, and in a rather arty part of town, in a refurbished victorian house. Lovely atmosphere. The chairs were big and decently comfortable, with a foot tub attached to the base. It was all very nice. So I picked a color and a foot lotion, and the lady led me to a chair and I rolled up my pants, took off my shoes and socks (of the brown sweaty variety) and sat down. The water was blissfully hot and felt great everywhere except that one spot where I accidentally cut my foot open the other day when I set up the ironing board-with it’s metal base/sharp edge on my foot and made it bleed. The part that was still healing burned like the dickens. But ah, I am great at ignoring pain, so I went into bliss mode and decided to enjoy myself.
A nice Asian lady sat down and started working on my feet. Perhaps she did not speak English. The young man working on my friend’s feet did, though, and we all chatted. My lady had a pinched look on her face. Although I had shaved the fur off my toes before going, my toenails took her twice as long to trim, shape and repair as the attention required for my friend’s toenails. I didn’t really look when the brought out the sharp cuticle trimming instruments. Oh no, can’t look at that!
Then there was the massage, gel. Oh dear goodness, they are gonna massage all the way up to my KNEES???? Ordinarily, for a person with experience this would not be so bad...but me, never having done this before....well, I shaved half way up to my knees. Oh dear oh dear oh dear!
The pinchy look turned into a grim pinchy look. Oh dear. She kept working, though.
So eventually all the scrubbing and buffing and massaging and polishing comes to an end. I get presented with a pair of disposable flip flops (thank goodness!) and she paints my toenails. Lovely coral pink.
Then it’s time to move over to the drying station. I climb down. I pick up my purse and the bottom of my purse smears across my left big toe. Oh dear oh dear oh dear! I sheepishly tell the lady what I did...and stick my foot back on the base of the chair and she re-paints that toenail. Trust ME to botch a professional nail painting job. So I got my purse, my jacket, my shoes...and head over to the drying stand. A minute later, here comes the nice young man that did my friend’s feet...with my ugly sweaty brown socks that had fallen out of my shoes.
Oh dear oh dear oh dear!
“Oh, sorry about that. Thanks.” I don’t look him in the eye. I stuff them into my purse as fast as I can.
Needless to say, I left a big tip.
I’ve alway joked about needing a farrier instead of a pedicure. The reason is, that one of the symptoms of low thyroid is really thick and cracking skin on your feet. There’s a medical reason for the horror. This morning I woke up and found a spot on my feet that cracked during the night. This happens from time to time. So now I have cute toenails and a giant bandage on the side of my foot.
I think I need to do this again someday, though. I could get addicted. And next time, I won’t be such a clod. I promise.
Comments
I'm so glad you enjoyed.
Ouch on the split.
Kopi Luwak