It’s probably just as well for legal reasons that I can’t remember the name of the nail salon where I had my worst pedicure ever.  So unfortunately I can’t warn you about this place specifically, but I can warn you about ever letting anyone who is not a qualified medical professional go near your feet with a scalpel.  Oh yes.

You almost don’t need me to tell the story do you?

It was 2002, I was in LA for a film festival and decided to visit Rodeo Drive and the hotel where “Pretty Woman” was set.  I had an amazing day, I got to sit in the seat in the cocktail bar where Julia Roberts spun round to a dazed Richard Gere, I got to check out the fabulous lobby, sit on the “sofa for two” in the elevator and even stroll across the street to Tiffany & Co (aka Tiffany’s).  To top it all off I decided on a little bit of pampering, so I asked the concierge if he could recommend somewhere.  Oh yes, the scene of this debacle was actually recommended by the concierge of the Regent Beverly Wilshire Hotel.

It started well, a foot spa, a back massaging chair and I was ready to say yes to having a manicure done at the same time as my pedicure.  I was in heaven.  Then the lady started on my feet.  She produced a scalpel and started to trim away the hard skin on my feet.  In fairness she did ask me if it was okay and I had no idea that, in the US, it was illegal for anyone other than a chiropodist to use a blade on your feet.  Then she got bored.  Then it hurt and I winced.  Then she looked down.  Then she looked worried.  Then she started wrapping towels around my foot.

The only thing scarier than blood pouring out of your foot and people crowding around not knowing what to do and freaking out somewhat, is when they’re all doing it in Korean and you don’t know what they’re saying.

At one point they wanted to put peroxide on it but I wouldn’t let them.  Finally it stopped bleeding enough for me to limp out.  I was just glad that I got out of there in one piece as I was starting to have visions of dumpsters.

I remember a man in the lift at the department store where I was parked telling me that they shouldn’t have used knives, as well as telling me how he got some very funny looks when he went for a pedicure in Australia.  I also remember the department store charging me a great big fine for staying too long even though I was in tears explaining what had happened.

And I remember realising that my foot hadn’t stopped bleeding.

The next morning, still bleeding, I headed to the conveniently situated Emergency Room at the hospital next door to my hotel.  $100 later and I was examined by a doctor who sniffed at my injury.  They poured peroxide on it and bandaged me up.  (They also offered me crutches but I preferred to limp off on my own two feet.)  I also got asked out by the male nurse, which just shows you... in the unlikeliest places...

If nothing else my injury also helped me to discover the wonderful world inside US drug stores - I had no idea how many things they sold, discover Tylenol (like American paracetamol), and really appreciate my automatic hire car!