Pedicure

Well seeing as how the sun has come out I thought I'd bite the bullet and use that voucher for the Chinese pedicure salon, especially as it was a case of use it or lose it (by Monday).

I was pretty sure they recognised me because the woman I'd had the altercation with last week (you know, before I swore at the man in the Telstra shop) came over to the girl filling the footspa and whispered something in mandarin and they both looked up at me and smiled the least genuine smile I think I've ever received.

The girl doing the pedicure didn't speak much english so communicated with me using a series of taps on the foot and the leg indicating where I should poke my feet. Then the altercation lady came over and switched on the back massage chair I was sitting in and then I knew she remembered me because she turned it up to full and left the remote control where I couldn't reach it. So I had to suffer a slow grinding massage in the bony part of the middle of my back whilst reading Woman's Day with a facial expression indicating I wasn't feeling the pain.

Still, I had the last laugh when I got home. I phoned them three times this afternoon booking three separate appointments under three assumed names, none of which I intend to keep. As Ella would say, Ha!, they shouldn't have been so flaming rude.