Going toe to toe with a mate is no mean feet
WHEN a good lady friend asked me to join her for a pedicure last weekend, I couldn’t help but shrug my shoulders with: “Pfft, pedicure my foot!”
However, she has a way of coaxing (see shaming) me into doing things that I wouldn’t normally do, so I knew I’d have to “toe the line” with this one.
Although, knowing full well I’d be the subject of ridicule should my mates find out, I accepted her invitation – and how glad I was that I did.
Pedicures are another secret you women have kept from us lesser mortals sometimes referred to as men.
Now, while I knew it was something to do with the feet, I had no idea what a pedicure entailed, but I did know that my feet were in pretty bad shape with more dead skin than a snake at shedding time.
No kidding, my heels looked like a relief map of Switzerland.
Well, I’m getting on, and as the saying goes, time wounds all heels.
For the two or three blokes still reading this, pedicures are great.
You get to sit in this big armchair that actually massages your back while your feet are attended to.
I’d never had a massage before, but now I’m hooked on a bloody chair.
At times the chair’s movements get a little rough and it tends to shake you up a bit, which can be awkward when you’re just about to sip your beer … er water, but you soon learn to time your run, so to speak.
But the girl who worked on my feet was fantastic, she nailed it, you might say.
They start with scraping under your toenails, a hazardous job if ever there was one when you remember it’s my feet she had in her hands, but she cleaned out whatever was under there – and that’s no mean feet!
It’s amazing what they get out from under the toenails too, I’d been looking for my spare backdoor key for weeks.
They also give your lower legs a massage with oils and, of course, scrape all the dead skin from your feet, the result of which I have to admit I found a double-edged sword.
The one good thing about having cracking heels is that when you get an itch on one leg during the night in bed, you can just scratch that little bugger with your scabby heel.
Now with heels as smooth as a baby’s bottom, the rubbing just doesn’t seem to cut it, and I ended up having to sit up and scratch my leg with my unmanicured fingernails.
Now, I’ll admit when it came to the painting of the toenails I was more than a little reluctant.
However, when they told me they had navy blue in honour of my beloved Toowoomba Brothers rugby league team, how could I resist.
It was only later that I was told the polish stays on there for months.
No thongs this summer, it’s shoes, runners and slippers all the way until my toenails return to caucasian.
All in all, we had a great afternoon, and she has lined me up for other new experiences, the next being a remedial massage and afternoon cuppa.
I’ve never had a remedial massage and, being a Nescafe coffee kind of guy, I’m looking forward to sipping a cup of a different brand called Coffee Enema.
NO THONGS THIS SUMMER, IT’S SHOES, RUNNERS AND SLIPPERS ALL THE WAY UNTIL MY TOENAILS RETURN TO CAUCASIAN.