I guess an explanation is in order. I used to get my haircut at a barber shop. It was one of those old timey barber shops where the guy who cuts your hair is in his 70s and the magazines that you read while you wait are Playboy magazines from the 80s. But the girlfriend gets her hair done at a salon type place and kept trying to get me to go to her place.
Me: Why would I go there for? I get good haircuts and I get to look at magazines from an era where it was still socially acceptable for girls to have pubic hair that looks like buckwheat.
Girlfriend: Well, this place uses better product in your hair.
Me: Product? I don't know what that is, but I've gone decades without it, so I'm pretty sure I don't need it.
Girlfriend: Also, the stylist gives you hand massage while you wait.
Me: Are the stylists women?
Girlfriend: Yes, why?
Me: A girl giving me a haircut and a hand job? Sign me up!!!
So after every haircut I got there they would ask me to set up an appointment for next time and if I wanted anything else like a manicure, pedicure or wax. "Uhhhh, what?!? no thanks." Well, eventually the stylist and the girlfriend talking up the pedicure (and my need for new blogging stories) turned the tables in favor of this.
I have no idea why I haven't done this before. I'll be the first to admit, that I have some ugly feet. If my feet were dogs, they would be pugs or bulldogs. If my feet were people, they would be Rosie O'Donnell and Oprah (back when she was fat). And also, they smell like burning rubber (and turd). But this girl at the salon clipped my toenails, massaged my feet; put some mud on it (that looked suspiciously like the poop my puppy makes when he's got diarrhea. Then she wrapped it in warm towels and give you a Cosmo to read. For the dudes reading this who've never seen one, Cosmo is like clothes porn for chicks.
Then eventually, another chick came over and started massaging my hands while the first girl took the mud off my feet and started massaging me. Incidentally, two girls simultaneously massaging me is what I imagine Heaven is like (except in Heaven, we would be naked, the girls would be even hotter, and I would be drinking a beer at the same time).
Anyway, I left without letting them paint my toes with clear polish (I'm straight and I'd like to keep it that way), then went to brunch with the girlfriend. What a great Saturday.