Tongue Thai'd

As a shorty biscuit, there are a few novelties in life I am not privy to. High on the list of shortcomings is the massage chair at the nail salon. I’ve had to give up on the dream of the lower back massage. When all hope of that dream disappears, I remember the actual reason I’m there, the pedicure. But before long, my mind wanders again. I often imagine the sheer terror and pain of childbirth but I am reassured when I remember that gazillions of women have done it and most more than once. I’ve sat through a few hours of tattooing and survived, so I could probably handle it.  Just then I’m brought back to reality by the equivalent of a cheese grater tormenting the arch of my foot. But it’s not pain it’s worse, it’s ticklish! I can’t take it and I start to hold my breath. I breathe through the seconds. It will be over soon. I can’t take it anymore and I jump inches off my chair. My Thai friend at the receiving end of the flinch laughs, I laugh and we get to talking. We talked relationships, family, friends food and fun. I shamefully divulge that I saw the Kardashian’s family trip to Thailand via the E channel. I immediately back it up by bashing the level of squeamishness that said Kardashian women displayed when stepping onto a boat, swimming, touching sand, seeing a bug, feeling a breeze, getting a hang nail blah blah blah. Ever since I continued on my path to becoming a psychotherapist, people just seem to wanna tell me their life stories. In true practice, I’ll keep our conversation confidential but lets just say that in 60 minutes of talking to “Sally” (why can’t they ever use their real names?) I learned more about her culture, her people, her reality than three hours of part one, part two and the conclusion of the Kardashians in Thailand. No, I’m not surprised. The only time the Kardashians left their fancy shmancy suite was to take a gratuitous trip to an orphanage where Kim pretends she’s going to adopt an orphan because she was “cute.” Coincidentally, it doesn’t work that way in Thailand. Unfortunately for me I’ll never get back those 3 hours of Kardashian watching even though I willfully subject myself to it. I was however, lucky enough to become that much more culturally aware, a competence crucial to my future profession. Having gained by shedding some skin, I left the salon in my new color “Mrs. Robinson.” In an effort to be more aware of the coffee culture I drove myself to the nearest Starbucks…

…to have a latte.