I’ve been cut to the quick….again!

Literally, I mean. My damn bloody toes are testament to that. The last time I trimmed my toenails resulted in a comment from my dear wife in somewhat of an exclamatory tone. It was something to the effect of, “that’s it, I’m done seeing you trim your nails and end up with your feet bleeding! You’re going to a pedicurist next time!”

And so, like the dutiful husband that I am, I went for my first pedicure the other day. At first, my machismo kicked in and I skulked around the parking lot for a few minutes, surveying the scene to ascertain if anyone I knew might see me. I cleverly picked out a coffee shop right next to the nail salon that I would duck into if I did see a familiar face. I rehearsed my line “Oh, hi (insert any friend’s name here), I guess I wasn’t paying attention and opened the wrong door. Care to join me for a cup of java next door?” But as luck would have it, I saw no one and had to fulfill my marital promise by entering.

After convincing myself that I hadn’t wandered into a Chinese restaurant by mistake, I approached an attendant. Although in a very nervous state, I do remember saying in a rather sheepish voice “be gentle, it’s my first time”. I was immediately whisked away to a rather ominous looking recliner. I mean, this thing had to be a hand-me-down from NASA, who most certainly had used it during launches. It had enough controls on it to easily pilot a lunar lander. Not only that, there was a gurgling pond of water at the foot of it, with a forbidding steam vapor rising steadily from it recesses. Undaunted, (actually, there was a lot of daunt, but I knew my wife would be arriving soon), I mounted the Lazy-boy from hell.

The attendant carefully explained the chair controls to me and told me it would be giving me a back rub while she was working on my feet. It was at that moment that my fears melded into a sort of quasi-confidence that maybe this wasn’t going to be such a bad experience after all. In fact, due to the exhilaration of the massage, I gave my feet over to her gladly and completely.

The pool of water I had such anxiety about was totally unfounded. What a great feeling to dip my dogs into that warm hot tub for tootsies. I asked her what she thought it would cost for me to have one of those chairs for my house. The number certainly wasn’t in our budget, but then I began to think, “do we really need a second car anyway?”

The pedicure went flawlessly, if you don’t count the many times I jerked my foot away because it tickled so much. She assured my it was nothing new for her to have to work with flailing phalanges. But the best part; not a drop of blood was spilled.

Well, so much for my machismo. I’ve always taken pride in my personal grooming, thus, not counting haircuts, have never felt the need for “outside help” in maintaining my appearance. Now, as the saying goes, “them thar days is over”. I’m a convert to the pampered set. I’m chucking out my nail clippers. One question though; does anyone know of a supplement that accelerates toenail growth?