To me, there is nothing more relaxing than getting your feet pampered after a full winter of neglect. I’d been to several nail salons, each with a promising name:
GOOD NAIL
HAPPY NAIL
NAIL TO GO
BEAUTIFUL NAIL
FINGER FABULOUS
… and the list goes on.
The first time I went to this particular nail salon, Perfect Nail, I was very pleasantly surprised. The woman escorted me back to a chair, turned it on, and started running warm water in the basin for my feet. She sprinkled some blue crystals in and stirred it around and motioned for me to put my feet in. It felt nice.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“It Nancy! That my American name.” She replied
“That’s a good one.” I said. “What's your Vietnamese name?”
“Yes, it Thuy. It pronounce Tooeee! I not like it. I like American name.” She said this with much conviction.
“Okay, Nancy! Here’s the nail polish I want to use.” I said as I handed her the bottle of O.P.I. Jewel of India. “Let’s get these feet scraped and painted!”
Nancy scanned my face, and I wondered what she was looking for. We didn’t know each other well enough to read each other’s faces, yet. She must have seen the puzzled look on my face, though, and said, “I look at eyebrows. You want me do eyebrows?”
Aha! She was wanting to wax my eyebrows. Those who know me know how pitifully sparse my eyebrows are anyway. I really have to work on them with everything in my make-up cabinet to make it look like they exist. If there does happen to be any stray growth, it’s nothing one single pluck with the tweezers won’t handle. If the truth were to be known, there's more hair on my chin.
“Uh …Not today, Nancy. They’re just fine right now.” She then started checking out my chin and upper lip. It’s a good thing I’d just used a depilatory cream. She was really hunting for something extra to do.
About that time, a very husky young man plopped down in the chair next to me. He looked a bit like a linebacker all cleaned up. He was very well dressed, and looked as though he’d just gotten out of the barber’s chair. He settled in the chair, shucked off his boots and rolled up his jeans. The girl assigned to take care of his feet (American name, Julie) had the warm, blue water just right for him, and he sunk his hairy feet into the warm swirling water. You could see the pleasure creeping on to his face.
He must have seen me observing him. I was really pleasantly surprised to see a man just sashay in and plop down in a chair to have his feet messed with. He was completely uninhibited.
“My wife got me to doin’ this.” He said as a matter-of-factly. “It took her the better part of three years to talk me into it, but now I look forward to this every month. She buys dinner every time I come sit in the chair and get my feet worked on.”
I wondered if she got to choose the restaurant, or if he chose Mel’s, where you can get all the country cooking you want, and maybe take you chances on the huge killer hamburger to get your name on the wall. Eat it all in record time and it’s F-R-E-E!!!
Julie was happily scrubbing his feet, and his foot jerked uncontrollably when she passed the scrubber down his arch. He laughed and said he’d never get used to that part. I know… me either. Smiling, he said to Julie, “Go ahead and dip ‘em in wax today, honey! It’s our fifth anniversary!”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Angus Brodie!”
“Well, congratulations, Angus!” I offered.
“Thanks! It’s been great! She’s a good woman!”
“You want wax, too?” Nancy asked.
She was so earnest with that query, I told her, “Sure, Nancy! Give me the works!” This put a huge smile on her face, and she worked happily finishing up my feet and preparing to dip them in wax. For those of you men who have never been to have your feet worked on like this, it’s going to be a very pleasant surprise.
Both Julie and Nancy were ready for us. They each had the wax tub at our feet. I’ll warn you, it’s pretty warm, but it feels good. Dip, wait, dip, wait, dip and wait a few minutes for the wax to set up a bit. After a few minutes, the wax is rolled down and off of the toes. My toes were now ready for the nail polish.
Julie asked Angus, “You want same polish today?”
The air was suddenly still and totally silent. Angus cut me a side glance, obviously embarrassed.
“Uh … Err … No, uh, not today!” He said almost in a whisper, as he stared at the mural on the wall straight ahead. That little extra must have been reserved for when there was no one sitting on either side of him. I had to pretend I didn’t hear that, so I just bit my cheeks to keep form smiling, and I changed the subject.
“Umm …where will you and your wife eat tonight?” I asked.
The atmosphere had returned to its former state, and he said, “Mel’s! We’re going to Mel’s tonight! My favorite food in the whole world. You can get real food, cooked any way you want it.”
Wow! It was true! They were actually going to Mel's, and I'd guessed it! He sounded genuinely relieved to have the subject turned to food, and away from the question about his nail polish preference.
Julie was through pampering him, and Angus tipped her generously and got up from the chair.
“Nice talkin’ to ya! Hope you have a great evening! I know I will!”
He had a big smile on his face as he strode gracefully to the door. I couldn’t help thinking that he was leaving with Happy Feet, and I smiled broadly!
Guys, give it a try! A pedicure is not just for sissies any more! Angus loved it, and obviously had a lot to look forward to that night for his anniversary.
Nancy looked at my hands and asked if she could give me a basic manicure with a buffing.
“Sure thing, Nancy. I really need it.” And so went my afternoon at Perfect Nail.
