As the best man for my buddy’s wedding, one of the things I was conscious of was the fact that guys nails are just ugly. Well maybe not all guys, but I’ve been a photographer at more than a few weddings and in most cases, the nails of the groom were nasty. So… we wound up in line to get a manicure a few days before the wedding.
It was a strange experience. We stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do. A nice older woman took us under her wing. She knew my buddy was getting married. “Are you getting a pedicure too?”
“No.”
“You should. I can’t stand my husband’s feet. I wish he were man enough to get a pedicure. I can’t stand it when he rubs his feet against me and they are all rough…”
Before we could say anything, another woman, a younger one, chimed in: “Yeah, I can’t stand it when my boyfriend runs his rough, dirty feet against me!”
Our fate was sealed.
In no time we found ourselves with our feet soaking in warm soapy water. We both had to pee and while relaxing, the water didn’t help us overcome thoughts of the bathroom. We were the only guys in the nail salon. The women all around us seemed to be oblivious. One was working. Another was on the phone. A few were dozing. The two of us just watched in fascination and STUFF just started getting removed from our feet. Soon there was a pile of dead skin, cuticle and well, foot crud all around us. Not to mention nail clippings. Then the cheese grater came out. I was not prepared for this. Scratch that, I was definitely not prepared for it. I thought I would squirm, but I didn’t. (A young woman across from us did). That was torture.
Then it was onto the manicure. That experience was somewhat better. I was more prepared for it.
After it all, my feet… they felt… well NAKED. I could feel everything more. And everything was slippery too.
I’m not sure I’d come again… except possibly for the next time I’m best man...
