This Is Not A Joke

Today has been a rather stressful day. After months or interviewing landscapers, arranging schedules, making concessions, and figuring budgets the guy I hired to fix the water problem in our backyard called to tell me he had grossly underestimated the job, and it was going to cost at least DOUBLE what he thought. Luckily for him, I was not at home at the time, so there was no way for me to immediately set fire to the backhoe that has been blocking my driveway for the past two days. Instead I just told him to get his shit out of my yard and send me back my deposit. It's not that I mind paying more -- I just mind being surprised by it. After all, if he can't put together a bid after coming out TWICE to see the property and go over what needs to be done, how well does he really know what he's doing?

So, now the backyard will likely not get done this summer, which was really my only goal. On the plus side, we can use that money for something else, since we'll now have time to save up again before starting the whole gut wrenching, soul crushing process of finding a landscaper next year. But what to spend that money on? A new furnace? A donation to charity? A college fund for Sally? All would be fine choices, but the first thing I'm buying? Pedicure fish.

When I saw an article about these amazing fish in Washingtonian magazine last week I figured I was probably reading the April Fools issue. But no, this is a real thing. A real thing people pay for. For fifty bucks an hour you can go to a salon, place your feet, or hands, or whatever, in a small pool of water, and have small fish nibble away the dead skin. You know, because using a buffer is such a chore. I guess the feeling of the fish is supposed to calm you, and that they have such small mouths that they can get more dead skin off than conventional methods. And also, you're feeding another life form, instead of just throwing your dead skin into a landfill, so it's more environmentally friendly. However, that doesn't make it any less obnoxious and creepy.

I mean, what kind of person has gone through so many affectations that now they need to use fish to clean up their feet? Was the tooth brushing chimp not available? I guess when you're tired of cigars, sushi, smoking jackets, absinthe, ascots, and large bamboo fans, fish eating your dead skin is the only way to show how truly unique you are. I'm sure Truman Capote would have loved it.

I'm not saying I wouldn't do it. I like being pretentious sometimes. It's why I hang out with Tara. But I just don't think it could become a regular part of my beauty routine. After all, if I started with regular fish pedicures it might cut into my appointments to have hummingbirds pluck my eyebrows.

Maybe I can have the fish attack the landscaper...