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?