I don’t indulge myself often.

One thing I do love in the Spring and Summer are regular pedicures.

I got my first pedicure of Spring at a new place. My regular place couldn’t fit me in and as I am an instant gratification kind of girl, I took my business elsewhere.

The woman who gave me my pedicure was older, I would even venture to say elderly. She chattered with her fellow workers with a sing song voice in a language I don’t understand. Which, really, unless you are counting to 14 in Spanish, is every language other than English.

One of my favorite parts of the spa pedicure is the foot and leg massage. This woman, who looked to be about my mother’s age, massaged my leg in a way that very nearly brought me out of my seat. I was sitting in my chair, kind of paying attention to the court TV program that is inevitably playing in every nail salon I’ve ever been in, when OH MY FUCKING HELL…WHAT IS SHE DOING…THAT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD…and then it was over.

I actually felt kind of dirty.

Of COURSE I went back.

I went for my second visit this past Saturday. The same woman took me back to my chair, but alas, she was already working with another customer.

I mourned the loss of that really hard and fast leg massage and settled into my massage chair. I couldn’t hear the court TV case, so I contented myself with eavesdropping on the conversation between the two pregnant twenty something women in the chairs next to me.  The one closest to me had the woman that I so deeply coveted, and let me say, she did not deserve her.

Blonde pregnant woman in ball cap: “Will your nanny come every day? Or just a few days a week”?

Brunette pregnant woman draped in gold chains: “Well, not on the weekends. But Dave will be home, so he can help with Reese”.

Blonde woman: “Of course not on the weekend. Jeffrey will have to get used to helping with Madison on the weekends, too. He’s definitely going to have to get used to a later tee time”.

At this point, the old lady with the magic hands had painted a few of the blond woman’s toes.  She looks down at her feet and tells her “Oh, I don’t like that color at all. Let’s go with pink”.

What the fuck? You pick your color and you live with it. Or at the VERY FUCKING LEAST, you say please and thank you. Or is that just me?

Brunette woman: “How many things do you have to take back from your baby shower”.

Blond woman, who was about to take rudeness to a new low: “Oh, a LOT of things. Hold on just a sec”.

She looks down at her toes, one foot was completely done. “That pink isn’t going to work. We need to go a few shades darker”.

Wow. Just wow.

Blond woman: “I am taking back a LOT of clothes. I don’t like anything with writing on it. Daddy’s Little Princess? Please. Just because she’s an infant, doesn’t mean she can’t dress with some class”.

At this point, I adjusted my Sons Of Anarchy and Breaking Bad mashup T-shirt and turned a little so she could see it.  (Sons of Chemistry. Albuquerque, NM).

I stopped paying attention for a few minutes, because I was getting my leg and foot massage. Sure, it wasn’t the same as the last one, but this woman was really good and she did scratchy things with her nails that gave me goosebumps. Fucking hell, I like the way that shit feels WAY too much.

These two privileged woman started talking some major shit about a mutual friend and I wanted to keep listening, but the dismissive way they treated the nail technicians really fucked up the entertainment value. Assholes.

That stupid woman didn’t even stop yammering about facials, and nannies and whether they’d go to the Outer Banks or back to Cape Cod when my favorite technician did that leg jack-off thing to her. They were both dismissive and entitled and rude.

I appreciate every pedicure I get. I appreciate the people who give them. I don’t care who you are or what you have…I don’t even care if you’re friendly or not…but there is never an excuse to mistreat or be rude to people in the service industry. If you are, then you must face the fact that you are not a good person.