Today was rough. While reading this morning’s Delhi Times Rithlal prepared us omelets, toast and an apple. While picking apart my toast I realized that my fingernails had grown longer than most women’s and the itch in my beard was a clean sign that its mass was capable of handling sub-zero temperatures, so we headed to the local salon.
Arvil and I ordered up a shave followed by a face massage. After looking at a clean shaven Josh in the mirror I felt like a new man, the face message left me feeling like a million crore, but inside my wallet I felt like I could afford more luxurious treatment. A manicure & pedicure are two things I have always been curious about, after being convinced by my barber that it would help with my speed on the frisbee field then it was a clear to me that sacrifices must be made if I want to be the best.
Sitting side by side, Arvil and I ordered a cup of sweet chai as we waited for our royal treatment. From upstairs a 13 year old Indian boy brought down equipment and began to set up shop. Arvil and I joked about how it would be funny if this little kid were actually the professional administrating the mani/pedi. And it turns out he was, Arvil was rubbed down hard by this 13 year old while I sat there and laughed. My attendant had yet to come down and I was hoping for it to be a girl, but instead a 17 year old wearing imitation designer clothing comes down stairs and started massaging my feet.
After an hour and half of our hands and feet being rubbed down by a couple of teenagers, we scrapped the head massage. We handed the cashier 320 rupees and tipped our barbers. I wouldn’t have traded this experience for anything in the world, after spending a couple hours in that salon I realized that I am not cut out for that kind of luxury.