An Afternoon at the Salon

Today I went and got a manicure and a pedicure, something I had never done before and is pretty out of the ordinary. I felt uncomfortable and pleased at the same time. The women who provided our service (Hannah and I went) were very nice, and spoke little English. I had a very odd feeling as I sat in the vibrating-back chair with my feet soaking in a whirl-pool. The "nail technicians" sat lower than us and meticulously cleaned and trimmed our cuticles and painted our nails. On one hand this seemed totally wrong and I wondered if they enjoyed their jobs. On the other hand, it felt pretty good to be pampered and I knew I was paying for this service. As the woman was massaging lotion into my feet, an older, heavily made-up, loquacious woman across the room said loudly to me, "sweety, you really look like you're enjoying yourself. Why, you look like you are having an orgasm!" She started laughing the gravely laugh of a smoker. "Whaaaaaaat?!" I thought to myself. I was very embarrassed, especially because I was just sitting there. I just gave a weak chuckle and diverted my eyes away from her so as not to invite any more comments.
I probably did enjoy the pedicure somewhat. But not to the extent the woman across the room accused me of.