In the past week, I have experienced all three of these. The pedicure and pedicab were quite enjoyable (only my second pedicure ever...and this was a treat from my friend, Tonya, who is also a born-again girly-girl...the color of my toes is "Cajun Shrimp" - shellfish on my feet).
Anyway, the pedicab was kind of a fluke - last Sunday we were all on River Street watching a band - since we had Monday off - and it was getting late. I told Tonya that I needed to call a cab...and lo and behold, she whips out her cell phone and has "Pedicab" programmed and ready! ahaha... So, I called the pedicab, and he came and delivered me from sin. Very enjoyable way to ride home and see the sights.
Here lies the parallel in the two: although I enjoyed both of these experiences, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. It was a really bad feeling having someone wait on me and cart me around and scrub the rough parts off of my heels...ugh! I just felt like fake royalty. I even asked the pedicab guy (his name was Rusty) if I could pedal us at least halfway. I just felt so guilty with him sweating and tired lugging my tipsy self home. And same with the little pedicurist...who am I to sit up in some elevated seat, reading an In-Touch magazine, and making another person push down my cuticles?
Commerce is commerce...but some things just border on servitude. Anyway, my feet look great and I didn't have to get into a nasty cab, so I guess all is right with the world...just an observation.
The Petty Crime I mentioned has to do with my EX wedding coordinator and the 17 heart attacks I had last night as we rode by our reception hall and saw it PADLOCKED and with a "For Rent" sign in the window. More on that later...
Off to my weekend of parents meeting parents and friends drinking beer - yah!
Like a waterfall in slow motion, Part One
1 year ago
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