I recently had a really bad spa day. "Bad spa day!?" you say, "How on earth could one have a BAD day at the spa, with all the pampering and selfishness and having other people serve you, you haughty bitch?!"... and at first I would tend to agree.
But I know better now. Much much better. Times two.
I'll start with the most recent one, which resulted in me being told to "get the hell out of my salon because I don't have time to deal with this."
The aesthetician took me into a little ghetto back area without enough room to completely move around. She explained my package would include a facial and 30 minute massage. I had originally booked a manicure, too ('cause I thought, what the hell, maybe it will stop me from chewing my nails off for another week). I cancelled that part two days before because I had a doctor's appointment I needed to be at later on, and I didn't want to cut it too close.
What, me....be late? I know, unfathomable.
Anyway, so she assured me there would be enough time for the manicure. I said no. She INSISTED yes, it would be dry in time. I caved. Drawn over to the selection of 18 polish colours, I felt neon was not in my best interests. She assured me that french polish was "classy and sophisticated". I used to think that, too, in my youth. I went to the trouble of getting one for BF's sister's wedding, only to realize that everyone but me thinks they are ugly and not desirable.
RACY PHOTOS BELOW! SORT OF NSFW!
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