"Okay, first, let me say that "getting a pedicure" is not one of my normal day-to-day activities. My normal activities include "not shaving" or "belching."

But I'm ambling through the Castro with a female friend who, excitedly, decides we're going to get pedicures.

...

So, like I said, I'm not a pedicure guy. "Foot care," in my mind, is associated with "Odor Eaters" or "touch actin' Tenactin." But I'm also a good sport. We find a spa and walk in.

The host was friendly and really smiley. We ask for our pedicures and are led to a pair of chairs in the back. I remove my shoes and socks (my prized Green Bay Packer socks, to be specific). The pedicurist fills a foot bath for me to soak my feet in.

When my feet are good and softened, the pedicurist begins her work (and there's plenty to be done with the monster claws I've developed after years of neglect). The declawing begins. Things are clipped, sanded, scoured, rubbed, lotioned, and massaged. Very disgusting things are dug out. The nearby stylist chuckles at my lost pedicure virginity.

The result? I've been admiring my feet the rest of the weekend. They're very soft, the nails are nicely rounded, and I don't think I could even cut other people when wearing sandals anymore. The whole process cost $25.

I'll be wearing sandals to work a few times this week, and I might even go back for another pedicure in the future.

In fact, as of late, I've started to be disgusted by the hangnails and unsightly cuticles on my fingernails. Perhaps a manicure is in store..."

posted at 11:13 PM