Not Too Bad, Huh?

Not Too Bad, Huh?

It was one of those days when I just wasn't feeling all that well. I left work early on a Saturday--thanks to some very thoughtful colleagues-- and just needed to get my thoughts right. My plan was to get a much-needed pedicure/manicure and to try to get a handle on some out of control stress. My pedicure guy and his wife, Anna, are from Vietnam; and it's worth the drive to Lake Norman to experience his expertise in reflexology. He is up in years, but is very acute with details. Somehow he always makes me feel like a rag doll when I leave. This in combination with the fact that he is not a big talker (unlike Anna) makes the experience Heavenly. So, this was the plan for, today; and chitchat was NOT in the plan! There I was grimacing and then relaxing as Anna's husband (I still don't know his name) was ramming his knuckles into my arches (believe it or not...it's actually a good thing ). I was enjoying the moment and feeling the constant knot in my stomach begin to subside when "The Plan" changed!

In he walked- a boisterous, highly energetic Latino who, as I soon found out, was approaching seventy (he looked at least 20 years younger). He was grinning from ear to ear, and that grin never left his face during his entire visit. I was definitely the minority in the room which is rare for a "nail salon". I was the only Caucasian female in the room and was also the youngest. Besides me, there were 3 men and Anna. To be honest, I felt a bit bizarre, but I was determined to block them out and enjoy the moment. The Latino man, who I will call Ricco, since I cannot spell or pronounce his actual name, made numerous attempts to chat with me. I was being a Scrooge and only giving one word answers and making almost no eye contact just hoping he would hush. When his attempts seem to fail with me, he turned to others in the room and was met with the same annoyance. He wasn't thwarted and his spirit wasn't dampered, but I still felt a little sorry for him. Being the heart person I am, I was moved by his predicament to engage in conversation with other people, and I felt badly for him sitting in his pedicure chair where he was not making friends easily. Crud! My heart always wins...which means my feet got to take a back seat. Doggone it! I began to talk to Ricco. This is how I found out his name. His story goes like this. He was born in "the beautiful Cancun", he still had a very heavy accent, he lived in Los Angelos but prefers North Carolina and small town life; and he recently became a U. S. citizen even though he has lived here for 50 years with a green card (some may pass judgment here, but Ricco was with the heart girl. Judgement is not her strong suit, and is both a weakness and strength for her; but it worked in Rico's favor, today.) Ricco shared that he had to learn 100 questions before becoming a US citizen. He said he only had to actually answer five during the interview. He said he completed this so fast in English that he did not have to complete all of the other interviewquestions. His reply to me was, "Not too bad, huh?" He, being vertically challenged like myself, told me of how proud he was of his 6'3" tall grandson... telling me what an awesome football player he was an saying "Not too bad, huh?" I also heard of the boat trips he takes on Lake Norman. One of his family members owns a boat and Rico is often included in the trips. To this he said "Not too bad, huh?" I discovered that he was actually a very good soccer player when he was younger. The reason he gets pedicures is because of injuries his feet have sustained. I asked if he was a good soccer player and he, of course, said, "Not bad" with a wink. 

What I discovered next made me tear up and almost cry. When he first came to America he worked at Universal Studios. There his job was to clean the movie reels. He used a very strong acid to do this (he didn't realize the danger at the time). One night, while he was doing his job,some acid spilled on his shoes. The acid ate through to his foot. He said he spoke almost no English then, and when he finally was able to get to a doctor he had to draw pictures to communicate. He spent four months in the hospital recovering. The doctor asked if he wanted to sue. Ricco said with a great big smile, "I have my foot! Why would I do that?" We spent the rest of our time discussing the Vietnam War and how proud he is to be an American. He even told me when he became a citizen he was asked if he would like to change his name. He said, "No I have a beautiful name! I can become a citizen in two days with the name I have now, but it will take two months to become a citizen with my new name.  So no thank you." He made me laugh and almost cry, but he made me proud to be an American! I thought I needed a pedicure, today; but what I actually needed was a Ricco to remind me what is important. Isn't it funny how the times when we think we are giving someone else a gift, they are actually giving us one. "Not bad, huh?"