What a great business model. Massage someone’s feet, throw some paint on the toes, charge $35 before tip. Get Money.
Why do millions of women spend millions of dollars to decorate such an insignificant part of their body. It’s not like I look at my feet all day.
“But wait, JD, why don’t you just get a manicure?”
Because, reader, I always eff up my nails within 1 hour of leaving the salon.
“You can get a shellac manicure!”
Lest we forget, reader. I am poor. All of my money goes to the care of my
money vacuum, Junior.
But I still get pedicures, because for those 90 minutes, I escape. I escape to a world of epsom salts, foot rubs, and the spa chair that feels like a throne.
After which my toesies look and feel absolutely amaze-balls. I then showcase my amaze-balls toes to husband.
Husband grunts and says “cute” …without even looking at them.
Whatever. They’re still amaze-balls.
Ballet pink with glitter. Today, My toenails are the Taylor Swift of toenails.