Why I will never have a fish pedicure.

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When I booked Chuy into the Cat Hotel over the phone to stay while we were away, I was asked if I would like the deluxe room for him.

“Of course!” I said.

Well then would I like him to have access to 3 quality patting sessions a day?

“Only the best!” I squealed.

And then they told me what the bill would be. Now we are talking about a cat who has recently sent me near broke by paying vet fees. The cost was about the same as a flight to Bali and although I love him to bits, I jut didn’t think I could risk a divorce by agreeing to the fee.

So we scaled back a few things until the bill sat at the same price as one might fork out for a brand new bag at Oroton. A big one.

The lady was all about the up-sell, and I got suckered in. I was shamed, just a smudge, because I was not giving him the best holiday of his life. Except from what I now hear, I was.

As I hung up the phone, I felt a little shitty. I mean, I felt that they should be paying ME to pat Chuy. Depending on his mood, he is a super smoocher and spreads joy  wherever he goes, unless he is grumpy and hungry, then he is somewhat irrational and unpredictable. Like me.

I had the same train of thought this morning in Seminyak as I walked past a tank of tiny fish known as Garra Rufas, which are toothless and perpetually hungry. You can pay $5 to put your feet in the tank for 30 minutes and they set to work, nibbling off of the manky dead skin off your toes and feet.

I stood there and watched a couple of Japanese girls with their feet in the tank squeal and squeal, as the fish ate their lunch. Of skin. And toe jam with perhaps a tinea chaser.

The proprietor spied me and asked me if I would like to have a fish pedicure.

I politely declined and went on my merry way. And as I walked and walked, I started to think of the many reasons why I would never get a fish pedicure.

  1. I should be getting paid to put my feet in the tank. My heels and feet are a goddamn disgrace and the feed they could get off one toe alone, could keep those thousands of fish satisfied until Christmas.
  2. Due to said situation, if I put BOTH feet in the tank for 30 minutes, I would be contributing to the teeny tiny fishy obesity epidemic, which in turn will cripple the Fish Pedicure Industry here in Bali.
  3. But most alarming, and I am being totally selfish here, what goes in, must come out, right? So all of those fish have eaten slabs of skin. Some may have eaten a few warts off. And then they swim around and shit and piss it all out, maybe even vomit a bit if they have come across an unsavoury corn. And you want me to stick my feet in that cocktail of fest? No, thank you.

And so as a warning, my friends as I sit here and contemplate getting on a 3.15am flight back home with the kids, should you ever be asked to indulge in a fish pedicure, be armed with the facts.

Feet are not food.

Have you ever done it?