Girly stuff

So, I wanted to talk about this crazy thing called a "pedicure," which is now mandated in NYC if you are a girl and wish to wear sandals or open-toed shoes.

Now, I'm pretty new at this pedicure thing. I only got my first one two years ago. It was wonderful (Dolly in Maryland had treated me for my birthday; thanks, Dolly!) and I was sorry I hadn't done it before. On the other hand, I don't like obsessing about my toes and spending money I don't have to spend, so since that first one I've only gotten two or three more -- usually before a major party. It's a once-in-a-while treat.

But yesterday it was time to get one, since I was going to top a guy who wanted to give me a foot massage after I whipped his ass.

I found a nail place on 8th Avenue that wasn't busy. Right away, the cosmotologist is treating me special. "Would you like the deluxe pedicure with a massage?" she asks. I'm thinking, wow, I just want my toes painted... I ask the price, and it was double, so I said, "Maybe next time."

She cleans off my old polish then sticks my feet in the water, which is deliciously warm and feels great. I'm reading a book, trying to act like I do this all the time and I'm bored, but really, I'm eating it up. I don't exactly know what's going on down there. She lifts one foot out of the water, starts cleaning and trimming and pushing cuticles. Then the other foot. Then more trimming, followed by more soaking. Finally she drains the tub and starts rinsing me off. She opens a little cabinet near her and takes out a towel, which was heated. She lays that over my legs and feet, presses it in, dries me off. Holy shit, that feels good. I'm practically purring. Next she massages my feet. Then starts massaging my calves. It feels terrific, but I say, "You know I only want the REGULAR pedi, right?" She nods and keeps massaging. This is the regular pedi? This ROCKS!

Meanwhile, I'm sitting in a massage chair that's been rolling, pounding, and squeezing up and down my back and neck this whole time.

The clinician rips off a piece of plastic wrap, slaps something onto it from a tub on a counter, and wraps this around my heel. It's warm and the plastic keeps the heat in. "What's that?" I ask. "Parafin," she says. "It makes your heels soft." "Ohhhh, nice," I murmur as she does the same with the other heel.

Only after all that does she finally put the color on my toes. She does a very nice job, considering that I've kind of beaten the crap out of my nails this summer. Then off I go with the little paper slippers to the drying area. She tells me I need to sit with the fan blowing on my toes for ten minutes. Okay, I think, opening up my book again. Suddenly, she's back, comes up behind me and starts rubbing my neck and shoulders! Damn, can this get any better? She massages me for about five minutes.

What an experience. I feel like a princess! Ok, enough girly stuff for now.