Fancy Feet, Part Deux

Some of you may remember about a year ago that I managed to barter deer meat for two free pedicures for my friend Angie and myself. After much discussion over the fact that "girl time" currently means two mommies hanging out and being interrupted constantly by our kids, not being able to finish a conversation EVER, and every phone call being pierced with crying and a million and two questions, we agreed that it was time for the yearly pedicure, aka Real Girl Time. Our friend Teresa also joined us.

Being the organized chick that I am, even knowing fully that one can just walk in for a pedicure without an appointment, I made sure to call ahead three days before our girls night to get us in their calendar. I called the place we went to last time....LA Nails.

Then the day before our appointment, I called LA Nails to tell them I had bartered deer meat before, and asked if they could use any more. The guy said, "Uh, no, we're fine." Trust me, this phone call does not get less humiliating to make the more you make it, but hey, if it ends in a free pedicure, it's worth it.

When we showed up for our appointment, I saw that they closed at 8:00 p.m., not 9:00 like I was told on the phone. Our appointment was for 7:30. They kind of gave us "that look" when we walked in, the "it's almost closing time and you have to be kidding me" look. I told them we had an appointment under Amy Cooper. They flipped through their book. Nope. No Amy Cooper here. I assured them that I had called ahead on Monday. They fit us in anyway.

Fast forward to today. I was balancing my checkbook and saw the charge for the pedicure go through. The charge to LE Nails. I knew that was not where I made the appointment. I quickly googled LE Nails, and then LA Nails. They are both on US Hwy 41, so I know I must have just assumed it was the right place. And all I can do is laugh that the people at LE Nails are not jerks for giving us dirty looks and OBVIOUSLY not writing us down in their appointment book. I am a jerk for calling the wrong place and then standing up the poor souls at LA Nails.

Not to mention that I feel for the poor guy who talked to the crazy woman on the phone who assured him that I had bartered deer meat for a free pedicure in the past and wanted to wheel and deal again. I get it. I'm a jerk...but a jerk with a very fancy pedicure.