Oh, The Horror of It!

Disclosure: To my Gentlemen readers, "You may want to skip over this post. It won't be pretty."

So like I have been boasting, I mean saying, I am about to embark on a cruise of a lifetime on Monday with Crafty Chica and her Posse. In preperation for said excursion, I had a huge list of things and tasks that I had to take care of prior to leaving. One of these tasks included a Pedicure. You see, it has been winter, and I am always cold, so my "toots" have been snuggled up in socks and boots or clogs these past few months. In other words, I can't even remember the last time I had a pedicure. My dainty feet gradually turned into ravinous hoofs!

I decided today would be the day that I would get them done. My plan was to go do some shopping and then head over to the nail salon. It was such a nice day, I wore flip flops. However, my feet looked so bad, I was too embarrassed to go shopping, and decided I would go DIRECTLY to the nail shop. I kept hearing my hubby's voice in the back of my head saying, "If there is one thing I can't stand is seeing a woman dressed up and out and about and then having some tore back toes!" Well I didn't want to be one of "those" women, and chance a man gasping at my neglected hoofs. Nope, that is not how I roll.

As soon as I locked my front door, I made a mad dash into the car to avoid anyone seeing my feet. I went to my favorite nail shop, and thought I scored big when I noticed no one was inside the shop. Normally all stations are busy.

A pleasant looking young man asked me what services did I need. I told him "Pedicure!" and expected him to get the woman who normally does the pedicures. "Do you see where this is going?"

So he tells me to grab my color and I see him drawing the water. I still didn't think much of it, and I found the prettiest dainty pink and walked up to the Pedicure chair. He tells me to get in and then motions me to put my foot on the foot rest.

THAT is when I realized that HE was going to be my Pedicurist! OMG. I wanted to crawl backwards out of that shop!

So than I tried to ignorantly reason with myself, I said to myself, "Yoli, get a grip, he probably doesn't even speak english, (as if that was going to blind him to the fact that my feet were buried under 20 layers of scales!) Just throw on your Ipod and imagine yourself suantering across the labido deck.

I see him eyeballing the damage and then he busts out. Is that an 80 gig Ipod Video? Shit! He speaks perfect english and he is trying to chop it up with me! I told him yes, and from there I got a full class on how to download and convert wma's and video to Ipods. Perhaps he was trying to get his mind off of my talons, I don't know, but I was miserable! He went on and on about how much of a techy geek he was, and all I could think of, was, "Why the heck are you doing my toes, and not behind some techy desk job?" I thought against asking him, because I didn't want to remind him of his reality of filing sawing and hacking at my feet.

Then the next part came, he started to roll up my jeans to give me the leg massage portion. I almost choked and kicked him in the face, but then I realized, I shaved my legs this morning! THANK GAH!

On top of that, he spent extra time kneeding my jelly because he was into a show on TV and wanted to see the outcome, so he was rolling and squeezing and slapping for what seemed like eternity.

I couldn't take it anymore and told him I was in a hurry and if we could speed the process up. He laughed and said no problem. I promptly tipped him a 5 spot. (although it should have been a 20, but I was short on cash) and made it out with just a shred of dignity.

On the bright side, my feets are now looking purrdy and fierce and are ready to hit the sunshine for next week!

Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!