Pedicures

Dear Elli,

Today, your Aunt Michelle and I received pedicures.   It was a girl's day, so we did what girls do.  First we received dual mani/pedis and then we got slightly drunk at lunch.  But that's really none of your business.  Because we're gathered here tonight to discuss pedicures.

I'm not typically a pedicure kind of girl.  Not because I don't appreciate nice toenails.  Because I do.  However, strangers touching my toes freaks me out a little.  Toes are vulnerable little appendages,  and I don't let just anybody put their hands on them.  My toes are special to me, dammit!

Here's how my pedicure went today:

We walked into the nail place, and there were two people available for Michelle and me.  A man and a woman.  I got the guy.  Fantastic!  Now some strange man is going to fondle my feet for an hour.

First he told me to put my feet in the water.  The water was scalding hot.  I told him it was hot, and he slowly cooled it down while I tried not to cry from the second degree burns on my feet. 

Next, he turned on the "massage" function on my chair.  The chair began to punch me in the back.  Repeatedly.  While also vibrating my ass until my teeth started to click together.

At this point, I was only two minutes into my pedicure and this strange man had already burned my feet, punched me in the back, and vibrated my ass.  I don't know why I don't do this more often!

I turned the freaking chair off.  It was making me anxious.  And I didn't need any more anxiety, because now he was coming at my toes with cuticle trimmers.  The things are sharp.  One false move and you will bleed.  And after you bleed, the pedicure man will continue to dab chemical concoctions directly into your wound.  And you will try really hard not to cry.  Because pedicures are relaxing.

I did not bleed this time.  Thank God for small favors.

But I did get a foot and calf massage from my strange pedicure man. 

Now maybe I'm the strange one, but I'm at a complete loss with regard to proper etiquette when a man I've never met is caressing my legs.  Am I supposed to watch?  Smile?  Gaze deeply into his eyes?

I don't know.  So I settled for pretending to watch The View on the wall TV while sneaking glances at the pedicure man and praying he would stop soon.  Because my calf massage also included exfoliating lotion.  Which feels like broken glass being smeared into your skin with the brute force that only a strange pedicure man could muster.

After my broken glass calf massage, he finally painted my damn toenails. 

My toes look good.  Very good indeed.  Thank God.  Because I paid that strange man $50 to torture and violate me for an hour. 

And now you know why girls get slightly drunk at lunch after receiving a pedicure.

I think I will take you for a pedicure next time you do something really shitty to me.  Because pedicure people will scare you more than I ever could.

I love you.

Mom