Love Toe. Never meant to be.

Last night Tempe and I hit the streets for Mediterranean food. (I’ve had February falafels for the past two years, and I can’t let 2016 bump my streak.) Afterwards, we jumped over to the mall because off-season pedicures are never a bad idea.

The pedicure place was being manned by a woman and a boy child. The woman filled a tub for Tempe. Boy Child filled my tub. Tempe chose a bright green sparkly polish because she’s edgy and brave. I went with a pearlized white because I’m really stressed out about the election, you guys.

I hate talking about feet, so let’s step this up a bit.

Boy Child (weirding me out by massaging my feet after being reprimanded by the woman for not giving me my money’s worth, when I was totally fine without any sort of creepy foot massage): SomethingSomethingBigToe?

Me: I’m sorry?

Boy Child: SomethingSomethingBigToe?

Me: No, no, no.

Boy Child gets up and walks away.

Me: What did he say?

Tempe: I don’t know, but I think he’s mad at you for having such hairy legs.

Me: Ack!

Boy Child then returned, applied the pearlized white, and then grabbed a black brush and started painting a stripe on my left big toe and DEAR LORD I know this is a story about a pedicure but I really do hate talking about my feet and he just kept painting with the black and then he grabbed opaque white and started drawing something and Tempe and I kept making hilarious and frightened eye contact because What In The Hell Is Happening Right Now? I clearly said No to SomethingSomethingBigToe!

Boy Child: You like it?

Me: Um, YES!

Boy Child: I’ll do the other one.

Me: No. NO! I really think I just want to keep it on one side. Asymmetry!

Boy Child: You don’t like it.

Me: I do! I do!

Before leaving the pedicure place, I purchased a bottle of the pearlized white because that’s what you do when you’ve been given an unexpected sloppy love toe that will need fairly immediate removal and reworking.


(Yes. That is a gigantic photo of my love toe. I cropped it and blew it up and filtered the heck out of it so it didn’t scream TOE! because that’s really not who I am, you know? That’s not who I am at all.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

8 thoughts on “Love Toe. Never meant to be.”

  1. Bwahahahahaaaaaaa! Reason #7million and three why I will never ever be getting a pedicure!

    And nice try on the camo job of the photograph, Kiddo — but we all know that toe fetishists all over the internet are tuning in here as we speak.

    (Practically crying with laughter at your expense in Cupertino right now, my friend!)

  2. I really wish I could upload a picture of me sitting at work looking at the love toe picture with my mouth open in a silent scream usually reserved for only the most uncomfortable or horrific things ever seen.

  3. I am going to think about this all day. What did he say? What does SomethingSomething Big Toe mean? How does “No” mean “yes, paint Love on my toe with your expert Boy Child penmanship skills”?! And why did that anger him?

    BC “Would you like your pedicure to look classy and sophisticated?”
    You “No no no!”

    BC “Do you want me to paint your toe in beautiful calligraphy?”
    You “No no no!”

    BC “do you want me to NOT mess your fresh manicure up with the word love sloppily painted in it?”
    You “No no no!” (Meaning yes I want that because double negative!)

  4. Oh, I love it so much! If looking at it makes you smile and giggle, you need to keep it until it chips off! (I mean, off-season pedicure and all…)

  5. I am creeped out just looking at the picture, much less if it was on my toe.

    This is everything that scares me about getting a pedicure!!! Okay, maybe getting a fungus from unsterilized tools or the bath, but still.

  6. I laughed so hard I nearly cried. And now I can’t stop muttering “love toe” to myself and cracking up again. I think those around me must think I’m seriously cracking up and are keeping their distance!

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