The purple toenails

September 14 2013 0954 

            It happened a few days ago now.  Kat came into the house and made an offer I could not refuse, literally.  “I have to ask you something and I don’t want you to say no.”  As an early birthday present or just because she is nice she took me for a pedicure.

            Krysi went with us or should I say I went with them on one of their friend rituals.  Krysi is always a bundle of laughs and it is hard not to like her view on life.  Kat’s humorous personality always comes out when Krysi is around.  It was exactly what I needed.  I was not having a good day and a few laughs with a couple great people were excellent medicine.  Oh! And then there was the pedicure.

            I am pretty sure I had the fasted pedicure lady in the place.  I am not saying she did not do a good job.  I am saying she was fast with the French manicure.  It felt nice to have my diabetic feet really clean and as smooth as a baby’s bottom.  I still look down at the white tips of my toenails and smile.  However, the message chair was wonderful.

            I just kept pushing buttons next to these little diagrams that meant very little to me and then waited for the chair to do its magic.  My neck had been hurting for weeks.  An old injury had been aggravated to the point it hurt to move my arms, my arms had been falling asleep, and I wondered if some of the constant headache wasn’t part of the problem.  This chair did more than just my neck it relaxed my entire body.

            A good back message is the best thing in this world for relaxation.  It can be sensual and sexual and it can be therapeutic, but either way it is relaxing.  I wanted to bring the chair and the small Styrofoam pieces they placed to keep my toes apart.

            Yes, you read what I said.  As the first one done after receiving treatment from the fastest nail painter in the west I was given very thin pretend flip flops and toe separators.  It felt so nice to have to have my toes separated.  For years now I have had what would be my ring toe trying to hide under my middle toe.  Apparently it is a shy toe.

            So, I sat at the front with my fancy flip flops enjoying my separated toes and waiting for the others to finish and I think maybe for my toenails to dry when the purple toenails walked through the door.  It wasn’t the color purple.  They were a medium purple.  They were not pastel and they were not gothic.  It was a nice purple.  I just did not expect to see what was attached to them.

            It was a gentleman and what made me look up was the stench that entered before him.  This man weighing in at about 400lbs needed a bath.  He wore a grey wife beater (I could not tell if it had stains on it because he was leaning across the counter) and a pair of sweats that had been cut into shorts.  One leg was longer than the other, but they were both way to short to hide the cottage cheese thighs.  He was leaning on the counter when I started breathing through my mouth because of the smell, but he looked to be over six feet tall.

            This large smelly man with purple toenails had come in to see if his middle fingernail on his right hand could be fixed.  It seems it had been damaged and cracked.  I wonder what he was doing that it broke.  Was the button on his remote control hard to push?  It did not appear as though his fingernails were painted.