WARNING: If you are looking for a spiritual post today, you should scroll WAY on down or click on something in my sidebar. Otherwise, hang tight.
Also, this post is in two parts because:
1. It is extremely long.
Bear with me as I give a little backstory……
I’ve had many ‘almost’ professions in my life. I was just one of those girls who couldn’t quite decide who she wanted to be when she grew up. I went first to Computer Programming classes, then a short stint in Nursing School followed by a program of Cosmetology. (I actually finished that last one.)
I’ve never been a big fan of the foot. I have never seen anyone with attractive feet and, seeing as how my second toe is literally as long as my pinky, mine are included in that category. Until I got comfortable with myself in Jesus, I never wore open-toed sandals because something about a rogue toe hanging off the end of your shoe is just plain freakish.
Perhaps this self-conciousness contributed to my trauma when one day during cosmetology class, a ‘client’ walked in wanting a $1 pedicure from a student. Unfortunately, I was the next in line on the Pedicure List. I gathered my will-power and went to the spa chair.
Now you should remember I lived in a rural setting at the time and to say there was a lack of sophistication in said town would be an understatement. You would think people would clean their feet before sticking them in a complete strangers face but this faux pas is forgivable considering my client of the day did not have a full set of toenails.
Yes, people. She had ten toes. What she was missing were two toe nails.
Due to The Fungus.
And did I mention I was next in line on the Pedicure List?
My instructor had heard me whine about feet plenty of times before this day. I was sure if I reminded her how grossed out I was by feet and then explained a Fungus was Among Us she would pass me by. And then there was the question of how much to charge. If ten toenails were $1 should eight toenails be 80 cents?
It’s a legitimate question, girls.
But one that did not convince my instructor to do the Christian thing and let me off the hook. Apparently that day the Christian thing to do was gather several girls from class to watch from her glassed in office and laugh as I walked sllloooowwwlly back to the chair.
I proceeded with the pedicure by instructing the woman to put her feet in the bath and I really was fine until the Nice Lady said:
“I want you to paint my toe nail roots and some of my toe to make it look like I have toenails where The Fungus was.”
And in the words of Hannah Montana, “NiceLadysaywhat?”
Due to my utter bafflement and the fact I was painting mangled toe hide, that $1 pedicure was arguably one of the worst nail paint jobs ever done in SpaLand – that is until the one I had in Florida last week which I will tell you about in Part Two.
Let me be clear my toe nails are all present and accounted for so that is no excuse for the injustice done to my feet.
And just so you know, if I never hear the words “toe nail roots” again in my eternal lifetime it will be way too soon.