All Dressed Up…

Drumroll, please…

I got a new job! I’m working at Renaissance School of Therapeutic Massage! And, lest any of you have any ideas about wrangling a free massage from my nimble fingers… I’m just answering phones. But I’m pretty darn good at it!

One of the perks of my new job is that I don’t work on Fridays. So Thursday night has just become my new Friday night. Woo hoo for the long weekend!

So, last night, I had plans to go on splits with the Sister Missionaries in Woods Cross. I was pretty excited, and a little nervous; I’m not used to being a member tag-along. Hope I don’t take over the whole lesson!

Alas, it was not to be. I was supposed to go out with them from 6-9. When I showed up at 6, they said they’d tried to call, but I didn’t have a cell phone. They couldn’t go out till 7.  So I turned around to go home for dinner.

On the way home, I saw France Cassamajor walking home. France is one of my greatest friends from Jersey, and she moved to Bountiful a while ago. So, as I drove down the road screaming her name, I realized the windows were up and I made a semi-legal U-turn to catch up with her again, this time with windows down. A brief reunion followed, but let’s face it – it’s February, and it’s cold. Our excited screamings were short-lived.

I showed up at the Sisters’ house again at 7. As I sat outside in the car, the cell phone rang. (Smarter this time – brought my dad’s.) Turns out, one of the Sisters was throwing up, and it just wasn’t going to be a good day to go out. So I left them some Sprite and soda crackers (from the Apple store down the way,) and then made my way home, twice rejected by the servants of the Lord.

Not to be deterred, my father and I decided to make something of our Thursday night nonetheless! We determined to do something that would surely gain us esteem and recognition in the world – we headed to Wal-Mart!

Our mission was to get me a cell phone (and, by extension, a life.) As we entered the mini T-mobile shop in the front, we realized this may not be the most fruitful place to look; there were a few phones to look at, and a surly, plug-eared teenage boy with a Wal-Mart shirt who sat decidedly ignoring us in favor of both his own phone and his laptop. After about 10 minutes, he looked up with a clueless look to ask, “Can I help you two with anything?”

“Why yes,” we said, stating the blatantly obvious, “we’re looking for two new phones and a new phone plan.” The boy heaved himself up reluctantly, muttered a few words about how the phones we wanted were only available on plans we wouldn’t want, and dismissed us. I doubt he makes much money on commissions.

As we walked dejectedly out of Wal-Mart sans cell phone, we saw a beacon of blue neon hope in the distance – a real T-mobile shop across the street! We were saved! Steve was much more helpful than Plugs, and within only minutes we had a pretty good idea of which plan was best, which phones we wanted, and how to buy them from Wal-Mart for cheap-as-free prices so Steve could set them up with the network we wanted. Life was good.

Our budget wasn’t, though. It’s the end of the week – we’ll buy them after payday.

So we came home, still sans cell phones, and all out of ideas. (When even Wal-Mart doesn’t make you cool on a Thursday-Friday night, what else is there?)

As we sat boredly in the front room, Dad raised a wearied foot and offered, “You could give me a pedicure.” I know an opportunity when I hear it. I ran to get my nail polish, and in record time, I was sitting on the sofa as Dad laughed, screamed, and cried hysterically as I made a vain effort to clean his nails and push back his cuticles. Throw a punch at this man, and he’ll dislocate your elbow. Tickle his toes a little, and he melts on a puddle on the floor. Oh, but it was funny!

And so, our Thursday night was spent in creating a bright pinkish hue on my father’s feet. Not exactly what we planned – and not exactly what every young single woman would think of a successful weekend – but I feel fulfilled. ◊

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