Sunday, November 27, 2011

Some certain days

I bought this coupon off of Groupon, some spa package with manicure, pedicure, facial, massage... all at seventy percent off. So this week I got ready to be pampered.

Excited to get out of Muizenberg for a bit, I cleaned myself up, showered, even put on some presentable clothes. I figured you have to look semi-decent at a beauty salon.

Got to the train station, waiting for the train, bobbing to some music from my headphones, when something wet hits me.

Pigeon shit. All over my hair, my hoodie and my backpack.

I think this is only the second time in my life that's ever happened to me (the first time I was about six years old and refused to walk outside without an umbrella for the following two weeks).

So I take off my hoodie, wipe off the stuff as much as possible and get on the train. Get off half an hour later, can't find the salon, call them up -- only to realize that Google maps sent me to the completely wrong place.

On the way back to the train station, I'm annoyed and slightly bothered by the smell of excrement coming from my curls and look down at my feet to see why my shoe feels weird: one of my sandals broke, the strap is dangling off my foot.

By the time I finally get to the place I was meant to go to become relaxed and beautiful, I feel disgusting and look like a hobo who just crawled out from under her bridge.

(The whole spa thing ended up being pretty nice though, and I don't *think* they noticed that I smelled like pigeon pooh.)

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