Professor Matthew Whitaker
19 February 2015
“A Sigh of Relief in a Calloused World”
“Right this way,” she motioned me to the pedicure area. She said very little else the remainder of my time with her. The chemical smell from acrylic nails and polishes—always strong—was easily overlooked as I anticipated the comfort and relief of pampering my tired feet. The bubbling and gurgling of the pedi bath was already underway as I approached the chair. Sitting down to remove my shoes, the hum of the tub jets lulled me to breathe a sigh of relief. I have no idea her name. The language barrier always serves to invite silent pleasantries rather than open conversing. And that’s okay with this introvert who’s here to turn off my mind. She’s wearing a gray cardigan over a low-cut black tank, and I can’t help but think it’s a poor choice of attire for someone who will be bending over to work on feet all day. Her sleek black hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, wisps escaping on both sides framing her solemn olive face. There’s little emotion in her eyes and no smile on her face save the one she forces on the few occasions that our eyes happen to meet over the course of our 35 minutes together. My toes are unusually ticklish today and keep twitching as she files and clips her way around both feet. She wears no hand jewelry, a good choice for a pedicurist, but she hasn’t trimmed her nails short and, ouch... her thin nails gouge as they steady each toe as she trims. Not a pleasant sensation. I feel torn. I want to just close my eyes, breathe in the moment basking in the heavenly sensations of warm, soothing massage and care. I long to be taken away from the stress of the day, but I feel like I have to stay alert to know when to switch feet as she works. She’s very focused on her task, and without a single word spoken and barely a glance exchanged, I still manage to feel scolded like a small child when I fail to immediately...
Please join StudyMode to read the full document