Monday, January 26, 2009

Taking care of feet.

I've been having really weird dreams lately.

I vaguely remember one I had last night where someone wanted me to drink at 9am in the morning, and I kept saying that people don't drink that early. Not unless they're in Vegas. That's all I remember.

Then I had a dream that I got a job based on a glowing recommendation from someone (I think my sister) at a new beauty spa salon place, and I got this job even though I have absolutely no background in things of the beauty, spa or salon nature. I took the job because...well, I really don't know why I took the job. I told my current boss that I was leaving to do pedicures (this was the position I took, seriously, which is really odd since I hate other people's feet except Mateo's feet), and she was sad but knew it was time for me to move on, and when the day came, I left on very good terms.

My first day at the salon came, and I eagerly started even though I had no idea what I was doing and was suddenly surrounded by fancy schmancy ladies who looked at me in disdain. I got my kiddie pool and put water in it. Then I sat next to it, waiting for someone to want a pedicure.

Isn't this how it's done? I seriously wouldn't know since I've never had one.

Anyhoo. I soon realized that my kiddie pool had tons of rocks and dirt at the bottom, and while I thought this might be a problem, I just left it.

Then I realized I didn't even know how much a pedicure cost or what a pedicure entailed. I got up and walked to the front of the salon and looked at the sign, and was shocked to realize my amateur pedicures in my blue kiddie pool with dirt was going to cost some unsuspecting lady over 200 bucks.

Then my day was over and I performed nary a pedicure, which was probably a very good thing for all involved.

The next day I showed up determined to get some training or at least be told what was expected of me since I had no experience. Someone took my kiddie pool and put it out in the back alleyway. One of my friends showed up and I confided in her that I had no idea what I was supposed to do and asked her if she thought I should ask about being trained. She said maybe not because one of the managers was a jerk.

That's when I thought, maybe this wasn't the best career move for me. Sure, I've had jobs where the training was minimal and it was a sink or swim situation, and sure, I just left a job I knew very well, and well, I was really in a situation I didn't know at all and everyone kept looking at me like I was Oscar the Grouch just let out of my garbage can and into the salon.

I was thinking a call to my old boss might be in order.

After looking over all the lotions and potions the salon sold, and wondering why the hell I took the job - again - I decided I was done. Luckily my second day ended without having to do a pedicure, although another pedicurist (is that what they're called?) was doing a pedicure in the back and for a moment I thought maybe I should just lurk and watch what she was doing, so I went back there. She had a ton of instruments and nail polishes and was going to town on some lady's feet, and for the 100th time I realized I really wasn't cut out for this.

End of dream.

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