This morning I went to get a pedicure, which is something I used to do every month…now it’s more like every 6 or 7 weeks. And it appears that I am not the only one visiting less frequently. Usually when I’m there on a Saturday morning, the place is full of operators chatting in Laotian (or something similar), women relaxing and even the occasional man. But today the place was nearly empty–here at the very beginning of sandal and flip-flop-wearing season. And half the schools in the area have prom tonight…usually another boon day for nail salons.
I take that as a pretty ominous sign.
My operator grimaced when she saw the state of my heels. “You should come in once a month,” she scolded. “I know, I know,” I said…”But I have to buy gas instead.” She just sighed and took out the razor and went to work on my feet.
But at least I didn’t get the Mark of Shame–latex gloves. When you see an esthetician put on the gloves, you know that it’s a signal to everyone else in the place that she’s got some nasty-looking feet on her hands. They might as well just stand up and announce to the entire salon that you have hooves instead of feet. Of course, I can’t understand a word they say, so they very well may be doing exactly that.
But for now, at least, my hooves will be going to the nail spa a little less frequently than before.