In My Country, Hairy Legs Are A Sign of Genius

Saturday, I was a good daughter and spent the day with my mother.
She decided in the middle of our day that she needed a pedicure. A friend had recently told me of a new place and it was nearby so, being the wonderful daughter I am, I suggested we visit this new place so Mom could get her tootsies done.
I whined that I couldn't get a pedicure on this day because I hadn't shaved my legs.
I was bummed. Having someone soak, moisturize, massage and otherwise pamper your feet and legs sounded really good but I try to be thoughtful to the ladies that perform this service and have nice smooth legs for them to work with.
So, because I was slightly stubbly on this day, I knew the luxury of a pedicure was not in the cards for me.

The second you walk through the doors of these corner nail shops, you are sucked in. They cajole you into getting the SUPREME package, the manicure AND pedicure, the bikini AND the leg wax. They know you want it; they just have to convince you to open your wallet and do it.
It was unthinkable to them that I sit there and wait while my mother gets a pedicure.

"You no get pedicure?" they asked, nodding and smiling emphatically.

"Come. Sit." they said, patting the large massage chair attached to the tiny foot tub.

I kept smiling saying, "no" and shaking my head.

Finally, my mom said "Oh for goodness sake. They don't care about your legs! Just sit down!"

So, I did. Hairy legs and all. I was a little lot self conscious about it.
Everything was great while she was working on my feet but when she slid her hands up my calves, I tensed thinking...."She thinks I'm a disgusting white American freak."
Then came the salt scrub, the mud mask and hot towels wrapped around my legs, then the cooling gel and the moisturizer.
I wanted to relax because c'mon...hot towels?? Who knew a hot towel could feel so heavenly?
But, I couldn't forget the unshaven stubble that adorned my legs.
After a few minutes I started to think, "She's a professional. There are people that never shave. There are people who have to wait 4 weeks or more between waxes...surely she's experienced leg stubble before! I mean, French people get pedicures!"
After the pep talk, I started to relax a bit. My muscles unclenched and my brain started to focus on the exquisite luxury of having a mud mask on my legs and feet and small strong hands massaging the areas abused by narrow shoes and strappy heels.

This bliss didn't last long. I realized my pedicurist was talking to the pedicurist next to her.
She said something in Vietnamese to which the girl next to her laughed and said something back.
Then both started laughing and the foreign language was flying.

They were talking about me. I just know it.
You KNOW they talk about us. I've seen Seinfeld. I know what's going on here.
They smile and attempt clumsy conversations with us but they are totally discussing our weird toe or UNSHAVED LEGS or our large feet. They're laughing at us.

I'm not paranoid. I'm just extremely aware. I watch TV, you know!

Posted by De at July 19, 2005 04:05 PM | TrackBack