"I Ain't Letting No Chinese Dude Hold My Hand" - Part I

A few years ago my daughters decided I was underprivileged because I never had a pedicure. They saved their money and said, "Mother, because you have been the best mother ever, in fact, a mother like no other, (okay, literary license) we have saved our money and are sending you for a pedicure." I was thrilled. Finally, someone else to do my little piggies that spent endless hours running to and from the market. I planned on a meal out at the brick oven Italian restaurant, all by myself, before my pedicure. No one to interrupt my thoughts, no one to serve, no disputes to settle amongst the children - just me, daydreaming, praying, eating a meal without rushing. Sounds lovely, right? Well, it didn't exactly turn out that way. 3 people saw me by myself and wanted to sit with me. 2 actually sat down and ordered drinks before I politely told them to scram. Then, I had to wait 15 minutes for my pedicure "appointment". The water in the tub was so hot I immediately got flushed and had a hot flash. It didn't help that the woman next to me had gross toe fungus or that the sweet Asian women keep on speaking to each other, looking at me and giggling. The nail polish I picked was almost empty, but they used it anyway. 7 toes into my first-ever pedicure the polish ran out and they had to use another bottle of polish that didn't exactly match. Not the professional look I was going for (sheesh, I could have done that). So, when my dear friend called me this week and offered to take me for a reflexology appointment, her treat (because "you are a friend like no other" - she really did say that), I was skeptical . . .