In true last minute fashion, I decided to get a pedicure last night.
I do not care much for those places in the malls (building or strip) that you can smell about 400 meters away, so I opted to go to a salon/spa and it took my entire being not to book a massage as well.
The place was really nice, the waiting area even placed Depeche Mode (yum!).
“Okay Stephanie, WHY are you posting about this?”, you ask.
Well, I have a confession to make.
I am, am, I, I, I, I am VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY tickilish.
Well… as much a I like going barefoot in the grass, it tickles. If my fingernails run over the bottom of my foot while I put on socks, I lose my breath. Now, I know “they” say you can’t tickle yourself, but I stand firm by the fact that I can not use the PedEgg without squirming all over the place like a kid that has to pee.
“It can’t be that bad. Liar.”
Dear reader, I kid you not. In fact, depending on the shoes, sometimes they tickle me.
If fact, sometimes even thinking about having my feet tickled sends me into a frenzy.
That being said, the nice tech is trying to buff my heels and I’m grabbing onto the arms of the massaging chair as though I was going to fall off. I accidentally kicked the last person who gave me a pedicure.
So then I try zoning out, thinking that could help. She starts files my nails to a universal length.
“Um, excuse me, your toes are curling around my fingers and I can’t move them.”
“oops, sorry.” I say sliding back into the chair.
“I haven’t even seen anyone as ticklish as you.” She comments. I take it as a compliment.
When everything was said and done, my toe nails are one length, a nice deep pink (!!!) and no one had to go the emergency room with a broken nose/severed foot.