Saturday, 26 January 2008


Friday of last week I ended my work day with something like a nervous breakdown because I needed to pee. After painfully climbing my 4 floors loaded like a freeging donkey (1 king size handbag+1 gym bag+1 bag of whatever couldn't fit in my handbag seewhatimean), I started screaming angry gros mots at my keys and front door because they seemed to be acting blatantly in unison to prevent me from getting in.....when it finally opened, I ran through my tiny corridor that's filled with freeging shoes and boots (hmmmmpipiiiiiiiii) on which I kept on tripping as I made my way to the f@##! toilet cubicle...meeeerdeeee.... which for some odd reason had its f@##! seat UP! (courtesy of my moitié that morning) and that was the last obstacle that made me almost pee myself by the time I put the seat back down and tried unbuttoning my f@##! jeans that were stuck and impossible to take off..... ALLLLLLEEEEERRR PUTAIIIIN DE MMEEEEEEERDEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!PIIIIIIIIIPIIIIIIIII!!!!
And cut.
As I sat there, my helmet still on (forgot that detail huh?), huffing and puffing, throwing totally unecessary insults at my door, shoes, jeans and toilet seat, I realised I had lost it. I needed to relax. I needed a manucure. Yes. AND a pedicure. All at once and right now.
Thats when I called my lovely dear friend Libbs who, even though she is australian and lives in Paris since only 2007, already knows the ins and out of my birth town, the places to be, the eateries to go for, where to shop and most importantly : where to get your NAILS done ! Good girl.... Because you see, Paris is a place where getting your nails and pedicure done on a regular basis (once/2 weeks) can get complicated if you don't earn 100 000 euros a year or if you care enough for your nails to refuse to lose them completely by getting them butchered with 20 cents toxic nail varnish and 3 years old carton files at the cheap shops around Strasbourg St Denis. Those who know will understand what I am talking about.
I just knew she would instinctivly know where to send me and that it would be open at 8pm on a friday night. For saving me that night I owe her something like a lifetime of cafés crème.
5 minutes later I'm booted and jacketed, on my scooter, driving through the rain and the cold, to get to n°10 rue Saint Sebastien. And there it is, just like she said, small and not looking too fancy but I can already see those massage chairs in the pedicure corner Libbs told me about....and its OPEN ! I could have started crying in anticipation of the pleasures awaiting but decided against that not to waste any more precious time. And boy it was worth all the trouble. At 8.10 I was getting an orgasmic back and neck massage by a leather chair, had my feet soaking in a fragrant blue bubble bath, two lovely discreet, charming and professional women filing, polishing and creaming my hands while a soothing green tea was beeing brought to me by the owner who obviously took it upon himself to help me get rid of that shell of stress and angst I came through his door with. And he did. And so they all did. It was all about me, my well being, lovely small talk, O.P.I nail varnish in 98 colours, quality tools, products and servicing down to the oil put on my dry toe nails at the end so that they don't stick to my socks and ruin 1h30 of meticulous work. At 9.20pm I left the shop with a stupid dreamlike smile, saying goodbye in vietnamese and flashing my shiny dark cherry nails to the world while driving my hot wheelz back home. Bliss.

6 rue St Sebastien
75011 Paris
Ouvert tous les jours de 10h à 20h30 (they did a late night special for me ;)

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