there's a line and i crossed it: jeremy gets a pedicure

it's been too long. but my indefinite delay is being delayed to bring you yet another emasculating event in the life of jeremy cooper. the pedicure.

yes, i am the guy who got highlights in his hair on more than one occasion, but a lot of guys were doing that back in the nineties.

yes, i am the guys who does the majority of the decorating in our house, but i do it while i eat beef jerky.

yes, i am the guys who likes to go shopping for clothes, but, as i've mentioned in the past, that includes the lingerie department (for my wife, not me).

yes, to all of the above. i realize that these revelations may change some of my blog zombies' opinion of me... some for the worse, some for the better. as my son caleb would say: too bad, so sad... to both sides; for a pedicure doth not a man make. traditionally, a man and a woman doth a man make, although in today's world the same thing can be accomplished with ice cubes, test tubes, injections, etc. (but somewhere in the whole process i'm pretty sure you still need both sides to doth make it).

back to the matter at hand...

in my mind, it is quite simple to straddle the realm of masculine and metro without dipping too far into the deep end of one side or the other while participating in the aforementioned activities. that being said, some activities definitely cross the line and when it came to pedicures, i had my doubts regarding the very being of its effeminate nature. still, in the spirit of tolerance, i decided to get myself some street-cred in the castro district sort of way by getting a pedicure.

this all transpired over the weekend while i was in california on an attorneys' retreat with my firm. we had finished our afternoon bike ride along the beach and were in need of some male sport and being the brooding pack of men that we are, we decided it might suit our fancy to pass our time getting pedicures. some of the guys immediately abstained as they would sooner be caught dead than get a pedicure.

i, on the other hand, like a good husband gave heed to the suggestions my wife had given on many occasions in which she implored me to get a pedicure for the sake of our marriage. i decided to put our relationship before my outdated notions of masculinity and resolved to get my toenails done (just for the record, i didn't get my toe nails painted... that's crossing a line far beyond the line i crossed). plus i didn't have to pay and my boss was going too, so what did i have to lose?

i must admit, that i lingered in the shopping center parking lot for a moment considering the consequences of my actions and even when i had to check my man-card at the door and swallow what little pride i had left in me, i quickly overcame my inhibitions and plunged down into one of the greatest inventions ever made: a mechanically operated massage chair with a mini-jacuzzi for your feet.

the experience was divine and funny all at the same time. i felt bad for the girl working on my feet, aim won't even touch them. i don't know how anyone could do that for a living, but she did a great job. i could hardly understand her, especially when she was speaking vietnamese to her colleagues. i'm not sure what the vietnamese word is for vomit, but i'm certain she used it while talking to her co-workers as i'm pretty sure she was close to losing it for the first 12 minutes or so.

i can't speak for her, but for me, it was a nirvana-like experience. the pedicure givers lure you in with these foot and leg massage things and then pull this "ten more minutes for ten extra dollars" line... how am i supposed to resist that? especially when i'm not paying for it?

it went on and on until finally the girl taking care of my feet and the other two girls taking care of my co-workers' feet realized that our boss was the one paying for everything. like any smart person, they followed the money. it wasn't long after that that they sent us packing and congregated around el jefe. one girl was working on his feet, one was giving him a back rub and one was chatting him up just to keep him distracted from the ever-growing bill he was accumulating. the rest of us then had to sit in the not-so-comfortable chairs while we waited for him to finish up. it was quite a sight.

like all good things, the pedicure finally ended and we were on are way. but as i walked away from my first pedicure, i held my head high. no walk os shame here. i was smiling on the outside, and although no one could see them, my toes were all sparkling and shiny on the inside.

now, i reluctantly admit that i think i'm addicted and will not be so bashful about getting another one as long as my dad's not there. and for those who would question my degree of manliness, all i have to say is...

really?

do you want to see what it feels like to get dropped kicked in the mouth by some silky smooth, asian waxed, hand polished (not painted) and buffed toe nails? so stealthy you won't even see it coming... like a ninja.

that's what i thought.