Pedicures are, too! I’m totally grossed out, yet very intrigued. Should have hit that up when I was in the District this weekend.  I can’t help but wonder how my ticklish feet would fare in one of these places.

I am, surprisingly, not put off by this idea.  Perhaps that’s because, after two weeks of backpacking Western Europe in flip flops, I hit up the local salon for the pedi treatment.  And let me tell you, nothing scares me more than a small Asian woman holding up a razor blade to my foot and smiling devilishly.  Except maybe heights.

Truth be told, no mani/pedi experience could be worse than one I survived last fall.  After my nails had been painted and I was sitting with my hands getting beamed by a flourescent light, Rachel and I noticed the two girls who had just painted our nails sitting on the couch by the window.  One of the girls had the other pinned to the couch, arm above her head, as she plucked individual armpit hairs from the unlucky, immobile girl.  Now THAT grosses me out more than some munching fish.

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