Yesterday, Bri and I decided to get pedicures. I had been thinking about getting one for a while, as my commitment to wear flip flops after the first sunny day of the year has made me painfully aware of my less than beautiful feet. I have never had a pedicure before. I remember in high school, girls frequently got them, before dances especially. Our soccer coaches always told us not to get them though because they take away your callouses during said pedicure which would inevitably lead to painful blisters the next time you put your cleats on. I've never needed a pedicure... the whole idea does seem kind of ludicrous to me... sitting up on a giant massage chair throne while someone else pours over my feet? Weird.
Walking into the shop yesterday, I was nervous! I don't exactly love it when strangers touch me.. and here I was, preparing to PAY a stranger to touch my FEET of all places. I may or may not be insanely ticklish... but dove in to the experience with almost genuine enthusiasm regardless. I chose my nail polish color-- neon green. Might as well have fun with it, right? 99% of my toenail polish color choices in life have been some shade of red. Lets spice it up. Timidly, I walked to to the chair where my pedicure-ist (???), Ali waited patiently. I sat down and she showed me the massage chair (which I had no idea was there-- it was great!) and put my feet in the scalding hot water. As I sat down and got situated, I noticed Ali eyeing my feet. Then I noticed that she put gloves on-- which is great, I'd totally don gloves if I were touching people's feet all day too! Buuuut then I noticed she was the ONLY pedicure-ist of four that decided gloves were necessary. I know my feet are gross-- thick callouses, unkempt toenails, and cuticles to cry about... but are they so bad that she thought "Damn, better glove up for this one!"??? Maybe I should have pursued the sport of pedicure earlier in life.. She got started, trimming my toenails and doing something to the cuticles. They have so many tools! I was doing well with the tickle factor for a while; I was quite impressed with myself. I noticed the woman sitting next to me (not Bri) who had arrived a little earlier than we had. They were doing something to her feet that involved what I want to say was a pumice stone.. they took it and rubbed it all over the bottom of her feet. Ohhh snap, if they do that to me I will die. Maybe she's getting a different kind of pedicure, and they won't do that to me.. That theory was thwarted and my anxiety grew as I saw them start doing it to Bri's feet. Maybe minutes later I saw Ali whip out the pumice thing. Gulp. I tried to look away. I tried deep breathing. I tried to go to my calm/happy place. Nothing. The second she rubbed that thing on the bottom of my foot, my whole body lurched and I was sent into fits of giggles and laughter. I twisted and squirmed and tried (failed miserably) to contain myself. White knuckled, I gripped the chair in sincere efforts to not KICK poor Ali in the FACE. She kept going despite my thrashing... heads turned in the salon-- Who the hell gets a pedicure when they're so ticklish?! After what seemed like hours, but in reality was a few short minutes, Ali looked up at me and said in her awesome accent "Ticklish?" I told her that yes indeed I was, and apologized profusely. She continued to scrub down the callouses I have worked so hard to build... then she moved to the next foot. That whole scene... all over again. Tickling is crazy to me. It is like a form of torture, but instead of crying, you are laughing. It is such a weird place because you're like.. happy, you're laughing uncontrollably, but you will do anything to make the tickling stop. Including kicking your pedicure-ist in the face. Don't worry, I didn't kick Ali, but still. I was filled with relief when she was done with that part. On the second foot she asked "Ticklish?" again. I thought YES LADY I AM TICKLISH! I AM ALSO CONTENT WITH MY CALLOUSES. LET'S MOVE ON. But all I could spit out was an awkward head not and a snort as she went to town on the bottom of my foot.
The other shocking part of a pedicure is that they like massage your legs. Again, touch from strangers is something I discourage enthusiastically. So when Ali started rubbing stuff on my pudgy lower legs, my eyes bugged out and the air shot out of my lungs. What in tarnation was she doing?! I wanted my toe nails tended to and painted-- that's it! Here she goes exfoliating, massaging, lotioning... I shudder at the thought. AND I hadn't shaved my legs in a day or two, so I'm sure she was cringing as she rubbed my legs.. shoot her hands were probably bleeding. Mortifying.
She finally painted my toes. The green looks less cool than I thought it would, but it's still something new and fun and something I wouldn't have done on my own. Bri and I sat with our toes drying for a good half hour and were on our way. A pedicure is insanely expensive.. the cheapest we found was this place that charged $27 bones. If you think about it, it's a great business for them, but to me it seems asinine to pay someone for torture and toe polish. And of course there's a spot on the receipt for a tip. Don't get me started on tipping. (Don't get me wrong either-- I tip and I think I am a generous tipper-- the IDEA of tipping really irritates me). Despite the price, it was a fun activity with my best friend who is here for such a short time. And even though my toenails are alien green, I feel less ashamed showing my feet in public now. I can't say that I'll be getting another pedicure soon (..or ever..) but, this one was fun, quite the experience.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment