Wearing my heart on my toenails.

Good morning everyone. Today is the trip to Benvenutos Restaurant for the Valentine lunch, which is to be  accompanied by light opera and show tunes. I had a look at the revues on Google and am hoping that the 5 star ones and not the 1 star ones are to be believed. Some people raved about the place, and others said they got food poisoning, so if I’m still alive tomorrow, I’ll tell you what it was like.

I went to have my nails done especially for the occasion. The fingers are attended to by the young men there, but they leave the pedicures to their female colleagues. I got the impression that it’s not the thing in the Vietnamese culture for men to sit at women’s feet. I could be wrong. There are eight massage chair/ foot spas, and in the one next to me was a woman with her shorts rolled up over the knees, to reveal rather large legs with knee replacement scars on both. Bizarrely, when I glanced down at her feet, I was surprised to see quite dainty feet with a delicate gold chain around each ankle, something I’ve always wanted, but never dared to do; don’t ask me why. She told me that she’d worn them for thirty years and had never taken them off, like her wedding ring. We struck up a conversation, or rather I did, and were soon chatting away like old friends. I remarked that American women seem to have a real love for getting their nails done, and she admitted that even with the economy being as it is, the mani and pedicure would be the last thing to go, along with the waxing and facials. I believed her. That salon was like a sausage machine, churning out well groomed fingers and toes by the dozen. Many of the clients were really elderly, and one old dear who looked about ninety, was brought in by her carer, along with her oxygen tank. She could hardly walk, but she wanted her nails to look nice. I bet Florida’s morgues have the best groomed corpses in the USA.

 

My pedicurist asked me in her sing song English, “You want heart for Valentine?” It was a bit difficult to decipher what she was asking me, especially as she was wearing a mask over her nose and mouth, but eventually I managed to work it out, and agreed. After much effort on her part, with her fine brushes and tiny tweezers, this is what I ended up with.

 

No wonder the salon is called “Cute Q Nails.” I’m hooked, and won’t go anywhere else now.

Hope you all have a super Thursday. Chat again soon.