Yesterday I had an appointment at 9:45 with the dentist to have my teeth cleaned and checked. At 11:00, I had an appointment for a pedicure. Going to the dentist is never fun, but I do love the feel of clean teeth. Getting your teeth cleaned is the pits, though. As the dental hygienist went to work on me, I apologized for my teeth being in such bad shape. She assured me that my teeth were not bad at all. Then she spun my chair around(you know those chairs are similar to the mechanical bull they use at Billy Bob's), dropped me in her lap and got me in a head-lock. With a sword in one hand and a grappling hook in the other, she went to work on me. Okay, she really had just a pick and a mirror, but the way she used that mirror made me feel like a side of beef on a hook. I could feel myself tensing up, my fingers curling in the thin air, and I reminded my self to relax. Lamaze lessons came in handy - focus and breathe. When it was all over, I took my new pink toothbrush and left looking forward to a relaxing pedicure at Wal-Mart.
I was glad I had made my pedicure appointment for after the dentist visit. Getting a pedicure is always relaxing and pleasant, and after the dentist, I needed relaxing. I love sitting in the massage chairs getting my back rubbed and soaking my feet and getting pampered and petted. But no, I got the pedicurist from hell. Actually she was from Vietnam and didn’t seem to speak any English, but she grinned a big toothy grin quite often. She began by removing the old polish and got me in such a strong toe-hold that knew things could not be good, but hopefully things would not get worse. I looked to see if she was using vise-grips to hold my toes, but it was just her tiny hands. Then she began to poke and prod my toenails with tools similar to what the dentist used. She was a bit rough, so I tried to relax and let the massage chair work its magic. Focus and breathe. I nearly came out of the chair when she began massaging my feet and legs. Normally, this is my favorite part of the pedicure. Wow, for such a tiny person, she had really strong hands. They would have been great on my back, but not on my legs. Then she went back to the poking and cutting of cuticles. Focus and breathe. I knew she was getting near the finish as she readied my toes for the polish. She poured some sort of liquid across my toes that must have been some sort of antiseptic because it set my toes on fire. Every place she had poked, cut, and scraped could now be felt and seen. I noticed a little trickle of blood in the crevice between my nail and skin, but she started to polish and the stinging was subsiding. Oops, she noticed the blood, too, and poured some different goop on it. I nearly came out of the seat again with the sting. Like a kid I wanted to holler “Blow on it!” She just gave me another toothy grin.
Gee, now I am feeling sorry for her. She probably does not get many recommendations or people asking for her personally. She really seems like a sweet little thing. Maybe I will ask for her name. Later, as I walked around Wal-Mart with my toes aching, I thought better of that last idea unless it was to make sure I did not get the same girl next time - if there is a next time. Ah, the things women endure to be beautiful.