I loved watches as a kid; digital Casios with black plastic bands. I wore them all day and throughout the night. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and see if I could navigate by my watch's nightlight.
All my watches were waterproof except for two of them. The first had a tiny speaker that would dial numbers when you held it up to a phone's mouthpiece -- as long as Ma Bell hears the right frequencies, she assumes you've pressed the corresponding number. This allowed my watch to dial anyone in my address book.
It also allowed the first phone hackers, called phreakers, to get free long-distance by whistling at exactly 2600 Hz. The
7 year-old who discovered this phenomenon had perfect pitch (he was also blind). Others used a whistle found in certain boxes of Captain Crunch cereal.
The second watch had a racing game on it. I got it in New York when I was 10, along with a gift for my then-girlfriend, Jennifer Malkin. It was a black and white pen that folded open to say "I ♥ NY". It was plastic.
My phone watch died when I dove into the deep end at the country club's pool. I got a new one, and dove in with that one, too. I was just so used to wearing a watch I would forget when I had one on.
I was darkly tanned except for my left wrist. I even had tan dots where the sun would shine through the watchband's holes. On the rare occasions when I removed my watch, my pale and soggy wrist would breathe in relief, suddenly remembered by its neglectful owner.
I'm back in Alexandria, taking a break from NY. My parents are in Montana so it's just me, Holly and the new kitten named Jack.
I haven't done much besides play on the computer and play with the animals. But Bethie and I went back to the country club last night for dinner. It's changed so much.
It was such an important place during my summers growing up. I spent every day at the pool. I'd dive off the board, swim to the ladder, then stand in line until it was my turn again. The only breaks I took were for lunch and for adult swim, 15 minutes of profound boredom.
To go back now, I realize that I don't have such a place anymore. I have no bar where everyone knows my name. No weekly poker game, no place I just can't bear to leave. Nothing like 7pm at the pool when we'd ask the lifeguards for just one more dive.
Maybe that passion is felt most readily by children. The closest thing I have is when I'm making something with my computer and I wish I didn't have to sleep. I'm glad to be reminded of it by coming down here. I think most of us work too hard . . . and that work often dulls my desire to play.
But yesterday something truly excited me. It was a blog post titled "
Fish pedicure."
The article described a salon where garra rufa -- also known as "doctor fish" -- nibble on your feet to remove the dead skin. And the kicker? It's in Alexandria, VA.
I told Bethie that we had to go. She thought it was kind of gross, but eventually acquiesced, and after going to the gym we drove toward
Yvonne Salon.
The funny thing was, she had seen it on the news the night before. I had read about it on Boing Boing, a very popular blog. And my friend Shelley recently heard about the doctor fish as well. So it was understandable when the receptionist told us they were booked for the following two weeks.
Bethie and I went anyway, just to look. And due to a last-minute cancellation, we got our appointments!
Bethie got in first . . .
. . . her disgusting feet were delicious!
And then it was my turn. I stepped slowly into the tank to avoid injuring the fish. But as soon as my feet were in, the fish started to nibble. It was the most hysterical and weird experience I think I've ever had.
My well-maintained feet must have been boring for them.
The doctor fish don't have teeth, and they only nibble on dead skin. They tickle, like bubbles in a hot tub, just more aggressive.
Bethie and I watched the fish swim around our feet and graze. We talked about what to get for dinner. She said, "I feel kind of bad saying it, but we could get sushi."
After the fish treatment, we got regular human pedicures, and then went to dinner at the country club. I hadn't been there since they renovated; it's nice inside. Too nice for my t-shirt, apparently, as I was asked to wear the emergency hoi-polloi sportcoat.
Bethie said I looked like Josh Baskin from the movie "Big"
Yesterday was a lot of fun. I let Holly out and sat with her on the brick steps. Then I played on the computer. Then I went to the gym, had a fish pedicure, and ate dinner in a sportcoat. Sometimes leaving New York reminds me of taking off my watch.