Nailed

I've only had a pedicure once in my life, and probably 2 or 3 manicures. But lately it seems like I haven't been able to cure the roughness of my heels on my own and so I broke down today and went for my 2nd of a lifetime pedicure. Frankly, I don't know why I stayed away so long. But because I am not in the habit of such indulgences, there was a level of uncomfortability that I had to grapple with.

First of all, sometimes I have questions. The first and only time I had fake nails (about 2 years ago - hated it - will never do that again) I wanted to make sure that they weren't too long, too square, too oval, too much, etc. In essence, I needed a nail consultation. But it's hard to have a conversation with a guy named Frank from the Philippines (whose name is surely not really Frank but who had to change it because he would rather go by a plain, American name than suffer the rest of his life with his given name being butchered by a world of Brittanys, Ashleys, and Mikaylas) whose forte is nails and not english chit-chat with a salon rookie. I walked in and tried to describe my needs in detail with some kind of articulate monologue like, "Well, I think I want to get acrylic nails with a french manicure, but will they be really long? Because I want them to be relatively subtle, you know, no daisies, no american flags, no spray painted hearts or anything, but I've heard that these things can be a little suffocating to your real nails. Is it true that once you take them off that it takes like TWO MONTHS for your real nails to come back? 'Cuz I don't know, that seems like a long time."

All he seemed to hear was "french manicure" and "acrylic" as he smiled but wordlessly motioned me to a chair got to work.

So, yes. I find that communication can be a bit of a problem. Second of all, I find that I have a hard time really relaxing. The salon I went to today was in the middle of my local Wal-Mart and so there was a lot of traffic passing by. I found myself regularly distracted, and thinking things like, "Holy cow, that kid is MAD," or "Honey, you really shouldn't wear sleeveless," or "Hey! There goes Lauren!" And above all I kept thinking, "Is it really appropriate for me to completely relax in a vibrating chair with another man rubbing me feet? What will people say?"

But I will tell you this, my feet are now pretty and smooth and at the end of the day, I think my new friend Frank is worth every penny.