Yes, last Sunday I entered my very first spa.
Not exactly something I saw myself doing- but kind of interesting.
Annie, Maggie, Gramma and I drove over the spa on Windermere.
It was very different stepping right in, and we started with colour selection for our PEDICURE. For me the selection was very easy. My favourite colour, the colour of my car and the colour of my political party was the first one I picked: orange.
For my family, it seemed more like a crisis. Choosing colours is not an easy thing for my sisters (or my gramma!) to do quickly. It was odd considering that most of the colours were just different shades of pink and red.
Before we knew it our spa people (what do you call someone who gives you a pedicure?) came up behind us. Each of them called out our name, and it was mildly reminisct of my childhood playground.
We were brought into the back and there were four seats that were very cushion-y. Strange...they were on a platform and this presented my first issue. How the hell do I get up there? First I had to take of my nasty flip flops...and I guess you'll first have to know about my philosophy about flip flops. I buy one pair a year (for about $20...the Airwalks are my favourite). And by the end of the summer (around this time) they are very odd looking and a bit rank. And considering that the ones I wore on this Sunday were the same ones I tromped around Australia with they are a bit weird looking. They have traveled over 30,000 kilometers, and they look it.
Anywho- I took those off (and praying that Yoanne didn't pick them up) and then had to figure out how to get up on the stair and in the comfy chair. After a little help, I got up there.
When we were all up, I had to test the water...and I did it with my hand. Big mistake. I guess you have to do this with your foot. Whatever. At least I didn't think the water was laced with Mr. Clean, as Annie thought.
So the pedicure started...and I'm realizing that someone is touching my FEET. It was bizarre.
And I had a lot of questions. Because as she started she opened up a sterile package of big metal tools. And those big metal tools were going straight for my size eleven wides...
My questions were along the lines of:
What is that?
What are you doing?
What's that for?
What am I smelling?
And my family was not kind.
Besides that, I had no idea what to do in the long silences. I would look over, and all three of them would be quiet or have eyes closed. How do you sleep when someone is messing with your feet? Anxiety begins for Jessie...
Meanwhile, my fear of kicking the poor woman because of my ticklish feet did not happen. Thank god. But when I did look over at Annie, she did have the jimmy legs...moving all over. Luckily, Marta (her pedicure-person) had a firm grip on her oddly shaped mini-feet (seriously, her toes are waaay stumpy).
About mid way through, Yoanne took a bag and put it on my foot. It was hot. I asked about 3 questions rapid fire. Turns out this was the wax I had heard about. Earlier that day Maggie and Annie had mentioned something about melted wax. And I was a touch concerned.
Me: They do what?!
I would love to know who thought of this little treatment with hot wax. How does that get discovered? Was it an accident? Who was the guinea pig for that? Someone still needs to explain the logic.
Well, this is what they do- they slip your foot into a bag filled with melted wax. An odd sensation really.
But when all was said and done, my feet were the cleanest they have been since grade 3.
And I think I actually might have liked it-just a little.
If anything, my toes are ready to vote NDP (that is if we get a candidate in this riding...).
