Sometimes Jersey is Another World

In order to be adequately prepared for the start of school, I decided that a pedicure was in order. Yes, other teachers prepare lessons and make fancy displays in their classrooms. But I serve a higher order power and she demands a back-to-school pedicure.

I arrived and selected my color: red bordello. Not exactly my line of work, but it will do. I relax and the fun begins.

I just love it when someone massages my feet, rubs in lotion, and paints my toenails. Yesterday afternoon, two women next to me were enjoying the same. They were clearly friends and by the sound of their voices, Jersey natives. They thumbed through their magazines and talked and it was a steady stream of Jersey speak: making plans to get some cawfee, and discussion of traffic on the Parkway, their fingernails, the shore, tickets they have to a Pink Floyd concert (are they still performing?), and all sorts of other things that are utterly strange to me.

I was there to relax and be quiet, which I did. But it was a little like being a visitor to a foreign universe occupied by loud, brazen people. And it may be the best training yet for days soon to be spent in the company of teenage Jersey-ites.

Plus, I've got fabulous toes.