White Trash Pedicure

Have you ever gotten a pedicure? For me, it is a rare occurrence.  Very rare. Because these wonderful indulgences are so few and far between, I must admit that I expect a lot from them.  Not only should my toes be soft and cute afterwards, but the experience has got to be wonderful too.  Otherwise, I’d just paint my own freakin’ toes and put some lotion on my feet, right?

I decided for my 35th birthday, I’d get a pedicure. Since I’m pregnant, and it is increasingly harder to see my toes, let alone paint them, it seemed like a good idea.  I decided to add a haircut, take a half day off of work and really pamper myself.  I even decided to call my old salon which is miles and miles away because they feel like home to me, and the last time I got a haircut and a pedicure there I was extremely happy with the results.

So off I go, away from my very, very talky coworker to the Salon (which I do not want to dis because this is the FIRST time I’ve had a bad experience here). At first it is as I expect. I have to wait a bit. I talk to the staff. They remember me. They ask me all the right questions about me and my family and my bump.  I’m scheduled for a pedicure at 2 and a hair cut at 3. 

So it begins. I am instructed to go back to the spa room, where the water is ready for me. I go, take off my shoes and dunk my feet. I’m alone for about 2 minutes. No,  had I known that this would be the most relaxing part of the experience, I would have savored it more, but I did not know this.  The woman came into the room, and I knew I was in trouble when she stated loudly, “You look like that and you’re pregnant. I look like that and I’m FAT.” She then plopped down and started to tell me WHY she was fat. She apparently decided to stop smoking and drinking (good for her!). So far, I’m not too upset, but then she goes on.  The following is inspired by her dialogue as I cannot remember it word for word, but you get the picture:

“I stopped drinking because I gotta new man in my life. He don’t drink, so that’s why I stopped. He’s a PROFESSIONAL paint baller! Have you ever heard of such a thing? I went to his website. He’s legit, and he is so hot. He is bald and muscular (add gross mouth/tongue gesture here). He also works for Harley Davidson. And he is so great to my two sons. My one son, I call him the “Spawn of Satan. ” He’s a horrible child. His dad is a cop. I was married to him for about five years. He’s such an asshole. He won’t even let me see his new baby daughter. His wife is great though, but anyway. Do you know when the new Fast and Furious movie is coming out? It’s this weekend right? I can’t wait! Do you like Vin Diesel? (No) What? Well, I ain’t rubbing your feet no more. Oh my god, if that man was within 20 miles of me, I’d need a restraining order because I would go right up to him and ask him if he wanted to f@#k me, then they’d probably lock me up. Which my ex would love. He’d just love to send me to jail. He should lock up that lazy ass son of his. All Spawn of Satan does is play X-box all day.”

It went on like this for a LONG time, so long in fact, that the girl who was supposed to cut my hair at three came in and asked if she could cut my hair now and my pedi could be finished afterward.  So that’s what we did. I put on some flip flops, got my hair cut and then went BACK to the spa room.  The second half of the pedicure was longer than the first, because now she had TIME to talk. 

As my mom said when I told her this story, “When you go to get a pedicure, you want someone to rub your feet for a half hour and shut up!”  Indeed.  So, my relaxing, birthday indulgence day did not go as planned. My toes are cute, but at what cost?  I will never get that two hours back. Hopefully, I can get a more relaxing end-of-pregnancy pedicure elsewhere.

 

Watch the hilarious SNL commercial mocking Fast and Furious!