I don't know the stats on the female-to-male ratio of the clientèle at a pedicure place. But, I do know that perhaps I took it from a 99-to-1 to a 98-to-2 this afternoon.
Yes, I got a pedicure.
For those unaware, a pedicure is a procedure where they cut and clean your toenails and massage your feet and legs.
Of course, you're wondering why I chose to get my first pedicure today. Many men go their entire lives without going into a spa, much less using its services. But, my mom was planning on going and had an opening, so I decided I would tag along. It was time for my toenails to be cut anyway, so I figured it would save me the normal hassle involved with my self-pedicure, mainly trying to find where in the bathroom the toenails I just cut shot off to. I can only imagine Lynnette wouldn't appreciate a big toenail anywhere near her toothbrush.
So my mom and I arrived at the Venetian Spa today after lunch and the place was packed. We had just eaten at the Green Hills Grille and I had kept my streak alive of consecutive lunches at GHG where I see someone I know. I was sincerely hoping that wouldn't be the case with the Venetian.
There are about 80 foot stations and 400 hand stations, all full of employees eagerly cutting, scraping, and polishing the hands and feet of total strangers. Eventually, we were placed in our pedicure pod, which is a sweet massage chair next to a flat panel TV. You put your feet in a very warm footbath. Then, it's time to start.
Isabella drew the short straw and had to deal with my two-weeks-overdue-for-a-clipping feet. She started with the nail clippers and was done in no time. She did in two and half minutes what takes me fifteen. (I'll have you know that I do want my feet to look presentable, and I do take my time when cutting my toenails.) Nonetheless, she made short work of them, without any nails flying across our little section and hitting my mom or her pedicurist in the face.
Then, Isabella got out six or seven other tools. There was a thing that looked like needle-nosed pliers, another thing that looked like the end of some tweezers, a thing that looked like a chalkboard eraser, and a collection of other devices that you could put a bunk-bed together with.
Then, she alternated dumping some liquid stuff on my toes and dunking my feet in the bath. So far, so good.
Then it was time for the foot massage. I didn't know this was part of the deal, and I am ticklish on my feet. I tried not to jerk my feet away, because it was a nice foot massage (also never had one of those before). Then, it was time for the part of the massage that involves a bunch of different kinds of goo.
So, while the chair massager is doing its thing, Isabella grabs this purple lotion that has a bunch of what feels like sand in it, and proceeds to work it all into my feet and calves and shins. It sort of felt good, but the tiny sand particles were a little uncomfortable. It was also tugging on all of my leg hairs.
After both legs and feet got the sand special, she washed off my legs and then went for some other, non-sandy lotion. That was better. Really, anything was better than feeling like I'd just been at the beach and hadn't quite washed off as good as I thought I did.
All in all, I got about a good half hour or so of work done. The clipping part was quick, as was the filing (first time I'd had my toenails filed). The massage part eventually nearly put me to sleep (along with the super duper reclining chair).
It was a neat experience, but not one I need to make a routine. I will say that my toes have never looked better.