zip it

The other day, I took my mother in for a mother and daughter pedi. The evening before, I had showered and gotten ready for bed. I had just laid down when, to my horror realized that I had forgotten to shave. I rushed to the side of the tub for a quick shave. The next morning, I realized that I missed a ruler sized strip on my leg and completely neglected my toe hair. It was too late to do something about it, so I just let it go and headed to the salon. Immediately after entering the salon, my mother and I got busy picking out our polish. I am horrid about picking a good shade. I end up with 80's hot pink or stripper red every time. We went about getting settled in our chair and figuring out the massage remote control. I managed to get mine stuck on some "karate chopping" mode and spend the first 5 minutes of relaxing lurching about spasticly in my chair. The pedicurists got to work. This brings me to my pet peeve about pedicures. I know the employees are talking about me. Just because they are speaking in a foreign tongue, pointing out my impressively long toe hair, cackling with the employee on your right, doesn't mean that I don't get it. You are talking about me! The two ladies attending to our feet were having a hay day with our sad, pathetic, rarely pampered feet. One got a little too aggressive with her cuticle tools and drew blood. My mother let out a surprised "ouch". The the women looked at each other and laughed, jabbering back and fourth. Really, I am paying for this? Apparently, a few miles down the road there is a salon that is rumored to have a no talk policy. The employees cannot talk to each other while they are working. I am so going there next time.