Fishy business

My daughter kindly offered to take me out for lunch today. It has been a miserable week, what with being dumped and public humiliation in the supermarket so she suggested a light snack followed by a special treat. She knows I have been struggling with thickened skin on the soles of my feet, especially since the warm weather arrived and I have been sporting my trusty tractor tread sandals on a more regular basis. So she took me to one of those fishy foot spa places, where the little fish nibble all the dead skin off your feet. I hadn't a clue what to expect, so when I dipped my callused feet into the water imagine my suprise when a large shoal lurched forward and begin nibbling away. Not being au fait with the sensation of foot munching fish I let out a blood curdling yelp, scaring the woman sat across from me. Thankfully I soon relaxed and found the whole experience rather soothing. The fish made light work of my feet and afterwards they felt less sandpaper-like. In fact I examined my feet this evening and found the words 'Fancy a Drink?' nibbled into my heels. Perhaps the fish thought I was tasty?!