A Foot Affair

Girls have been begging me for years to take the plunge.

My ex used to tell me, “I see guys in there all the time… it’s so not a big deal.” And my response has always been the same: “show me one guy that I know, or even one guy who’s even remotely like me that goes in there, and if they tell me it’s not a big deal, then I’ll do it.”

I’ve still never received that confirmation, and I still don’t know any other guy who’s ever done it, but I nevertheless decided yesterday that it was time to suck it up and get it over with.

And so…I got a pedicure.

Most of you reading this probably don’t think this is a big deal at all, but I assure you, it is. Think about it… outside of New York City, Los Angeles, and Miami, how many of you actually know a straight guy who is NOT a metrosexual and yet still gets pedicures? Not many of you. Maybe most guys just don’t know any better and still assume that the overall point to getting the pedi is getting your nails painted, but for whatever reason, the serious stigma continues to exist that getting a pedicure somehow shows a sign of homosexuality.

However, I’m here to let everyone know (and girls, you certainly have my permission to show this article to your nappy-footed boyfriends) that getting a pedicure really isn’t a big deal at all.

Let me first admit that I was definitely in an altered state of mind (use your imagination…I’m not sure I could have even gone into the salon if I’d been totally sober), and I went in there with a supportive girl friend, both of which went a long way in lessening my apprehension. And it certainly helped that once it was announced that I wanted a pedicure, I started getting whipped around the salon so quickly that I didn’t even have time to process what was going on.

First things first… why didn’t anyone ever tell me that when you get a pedicure, you get to sit in one of those leather massage chairs?? Hell, I go to Brookstone for no reason whatsoever other than to sit in those chairs! Had I known, I probably would have found my way to the salon a lot sooner.

Let me tell you right now – a video of my face during this experience would have been priceless. I just didn’t know what was coming! You know how they turn on those jets in that tub of water? I almost jumped straight out of the chair! I didn’t know when they wanted me to switch feet, when they wanted me to relax, nothing. Basically, I was like a little kid lost in the mall. I knew I was supposed to be relaxed and enjoying myself, but I was simply too tense to let loose.

Speaking of funny faces, another priceless mugshot appeared when my lady moved to take the razor to the bottom of my feet. I’m not saying that my feet are about to fall off due to leprosy, but they aren’t exactly sleek and smooth either. In any event, it was clear that this lady looked at my feet like a real estate developer looks at an abandoned acre of swampy marshland. My feet were to be her masterpiece, and she proceeded to razor my feet with incredible fervor. Let me tell you, I think I could have my feet scraped all day long. What a great sensation.

As the appointment wound down, and my initial excitement (adrenaline?) began to ebb, I experienced an epiphany. As long as I’m not painting my toes pink (or any other color for that matter), there’s really nothing feminine at all about getting a pedicure. It’s basically just a glorified foot massage, and I don’t know any guys that would turn one of those down. So while I relish in my unexpectedly rejuvenated feet, here’s one straight guy who’s not afraid to stand up and say unequivocally that I get pedicures, and I enjoy it!

Give the Boy a Break!
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