To me, having a pedicure is a bit of an extravagance and although I deeply enjoy the experience I am not always comfortable having someone crouched over me, whittling and scraping away while I sit in a giant, puffy chair like I’m Lazy-Boy Royalty. I’m also quite shy about the entire process so when I pulled up at my usual place (meaning the place I have been exactly three times before) and saw the “Closed” sign, I was so disappointed I very nearly just went home. However, this is winter, my feet are not at their finest and I wanted to raise my spirits with a splash of vermillion, so I drove to another salon since where I live and let’s face it, there’s a nail salon literally every few yards.
Once installed, I like to stare into space and not think about anything for a while as my feet soak in some hot, floral scented froth knowing before the end of my visit I will be called “Bee-u-tiful lady” at least twice. Someone will also sincerely tell me that the colour I chose is an excellent choice.
Regardless of the truth involved in either of these statements – I really like hearing it.
Anyway, back at the new-to-me nail salon where the staff seemed every bit as nice but the chairs were different and each one was fitted with a massage feature. I didn’t like the idea of this but since the owner had taken the time to explain all the different features on the remote, I was too polite to say no and pressed the button which seemed to show the fewest amount of hands in the illustration. A low menacing, whirr started up around my kidneys and then the entire chair closed around me, squeezing tightly and then releasing.
The entire affair was not unlike being digested by a python and produced a similar panic.
Seeing my distress, one of the staff sprinted back to help me and then settled into the general more calming business of sanding and brandishing my heels with a giant cheese grater on a stick, the size of which I had not seen before. After the cleaning and scraping there was a full-fledged massage which involved a few well-executed slaps to my arches and legs which, though unexpected, were surprisingly brisk and well received by my feet especially after being smoothed down with rose cream.
The polish was then applied extremely carefully (it’s candy-apple red but I didn’t see the actual brand name) and then after the drying session I carefully pulled my Blundstones back on over silky, shining toes and went back out into the elements. (The owner thoughtfully supplied a thin plastic sleeve for each foot to be sure that the artwork would not smudge on the way home).
It’s worth every penny – and I thank those Beautiful Ladies for what they do for me.