You See … What Had Happened Was

You can’t believe how happy I am for this week to come to an end. Way too much has been going on.

Actually, thinking back, too much has been going on for some time … period. I’ve consistently had something to blog about, haven’t had an "I’ve got nothing" post since November of 2022.

I really need things to slow down, be less interesting for a while.

Icing on the cake for the end of this week is that today is a no-bingo Friday. I can take a little break, lock myself away from the world until Monday, and if Red Light doesn’t hold a seance underneath my window, have nothing interesting to post for a while.

Looking at the jeep’s instrument panel, on my way to this morning’s workout, checking the psi show, I’m fairly convinced I’m being paranoid about losing pressure in the passenger side rear tire.

I’m a little traumatized by Tuesday's blowout, not expecting the paranoia to go away anytime soon, so I’ll continue to check in on that psi show.

Arriving for my 12:15 appointment at the tire place yesterday, being told the process would take about 45 minutes, I thought to spend the time getting a mani/pedi at the salon I spied two buildings down.

Sticking my head inside the salon door, I saw a young lady working on a customer. "May I help you?", said she.

"Do you take walk-ins?"

"Yes. Have a seat at the chair on the end".

I settle down in the chair, take my toe rings off, so they won’t get washed away in the warm soapy foot spa water — as they have in the past, and put them away for safe keeping.

After a minute or two or three went by, I could hear a noise coming from the back room. It sounded like I’d arrived while the manicurist was eating her lunch, so I patiently waited another few minutes.

You see, what happened was … When the curtain to the back room finally opened, out came this old grandfatherly looking guy — and yes, I said old, because in his case it fit, while the shoe did not fit when tossed towards me.

When I saw him go to fill the manicure bowl, realized he was the manicurist, my eyes got wide, my spirit whispered "No", so I got up, began walking towards the exit door.

Behind me, I could hear grandpa manicurist say something. I didn’t make out what he said, but replied "No" just the same and fled the salon, no explanation.

I’m not proud of how I reacted — panicking, running out, and I’m sorry if I hurt grandpa’s feelings, but my reaction seemed the necessary thing to do at the time as I could not fanthom the idea of grandpa rubbing my feet, my arms, legs, touching me …… period.

In retrospect, grandpa was probably the owner, down a few manicurists, a skilled manicurist himself, and probably not as old as he looked, younger than I even, but still …………

At any rate, even if I see tons of manicurists working in the salon, next time in the area, I can’t show my face there again.

Trainer tells me he had the same thing happen to him, back when he was working as a physical therapist — only HE was the one to walk out.

When he entered the treatment room, the client took one look at him, said "NO!", so he immediately turned around, walked out, went to the front desk, explained what had just happened, and a physical therapists to the client’s liking was arranged for.

Trainer said he didn’t take it personal so, hopefully, grandpa isn’t too hurt by my running from him.