By: Jana Greene
Years ago, a friend had given me a gift certificate for a pedicure at a local nail salon. Andrew, a nice gentleman from Vietnam, would do the dirty work – my feet were a mess. First he ran a very warm foot bath and instructed me to relax while enjoying the gentle jets.
But I was not relaxed; I became more nervous as he lined up the implements of pedicures by the side of the tub: lotions and oils, pumice stones and cuticle sticks. After a while, he lifted one foot at a time and placed it on a towel on his knee.
I’d never had a pedicure, and it was a humbling experience so far. I was so embarrassed.
Living near the beach, I had become accustomed to staying either barefoot, or in a pair of well-worn leather sandals, and the soles of my feet were…
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