I have recently returned from a state of supreme happiness, also known as paradise. 

And I’m always amazed how quickly a daunting stack of mail can snap me back to relative happiness as opposed to 8 glorious days of supreme happiness. 

Of course, I am not complaining.  I am not a complainer.

But let me just point out one little detail that brought me dangerously close to the jagged rocks of complainerdom (that’s a made up word in case you hadn’t noticed).

It was a pedicure.

Specifically, a pedicure in a zero gravity chair.

Pedicures –  in most situations except for those occasions that English is not spoken and I have trouble making the pedicurist understand that I do NOT want the electric sander or the pointy nippers anywhere near my cuticles – are soothing and wonderful.  They make me feel pampered and special and pro-active in the fight against gnarly, aging feet and…well…aging in general.  Maybe I’m unique in feeling this way but, truth be told, I take pride in trying to keep myself looking younger than I am and I resent people bursting my bubble, you know?  It is my constitutional right to live in denial if I choose to.

Enter the zero gravity chair and my pedicure in paradise.

DARLING YOUNG PEDICURIST:

Have you ever been in one of these?

ME:

A chair?  Yes. I’ve been know to sit.

DARLING YOUNG PEDICURIST:

This is special.  It’s  a zero gravity chair. I think you’ll like it but sometimes people get all freaked out and can’t deal with it and try to jump out of it.

ME:

Sounds fun.  Sign me up.  I love to lose it while I’m on a relaxing vacation.

So…this darling girl reclines me.  And reclines me some more.  Then my feet are actually above my heart (which is really a soothing position) and I feel quite nice.

DARLING YOUNG PEDICURIST:

It feels like you’re floating, huh?

ME:

Hmm…yeah.  I kinda like it. 

By this time, the urge to flee has subsided and I’m starting to dig this groovy chair.  I take a few deep breaths, relax, take in the earthy aroma of patchouli and sandalwood being pumped into the place by discreetly placed diffusers.

ME:

This is nice

I sink a bit more into the comfy folds of the chair.  Oh, yeaaaah.  Zero Gravity.  My neck muscles, which generally have the turning radius of two freshly hung 2 x 4s, begin to soften.  My spine feels awesome like  I may actually be getting taller. What a great marketing tool to pull in the vertically challenged.  This is brilliant!

ME:

I guess this is what the astronauts felt like when they first went into space.

DARLING YOUNG PEDICURIST:

Well, to me it just feel like….floating.

ME:

As in zero gravity. As in what it feels like to be in space. Thus the name, right?

DARLING YOUNG PEDICURIST:

Uh huh. Would you like something to drink?  Green tea?  Chai?

ME:

How about some Tang?

DARLING YOUNG PEDICURIST:

What? Is that like, a new thing?

ME:

You know…Tang!?  Get it?  The drink of the astronauts?  Early space travel?

DARLING YOUNG PEDICURIST:

Oh. Uh….like, maybe my mom knows about that.

Shit! 

I try to change the subject.

ME:

You know, this may sound crazy but I feel like I’m getting taller being reclined like this . 

DARLING YOUNG PEDICURIST:

How cool, huh?  They say you shrink as you get older.

My temporary bliss falls to earth with a glorious thud.

ME:

Just don’t use those pointy nippers, okay?