A Bad Day at the Spa

Applejack managed to catch a quick nap on the train to Baltimare. She'd asked the conductor to wake her up, forcibly if necessary, as she definitely wanted to tell Rarity about this place. Sure, Applejack wasn't the first choice of pony to visit a spa, but the look on Rarity's face if she were to turn down such an exclusive gift was a very loud insult. She had to wonder if, rather than helping Rarity herself, she would have been better served by fetching Fluttershy to do it for her.

Nonsense, she decided, stepping off the train. Fluttershy had duties to attend to, and Applejack, for once, wasn't busy. Rarity had to work with what was available.

The paper Rarity had given Applejack contained a map from the train station to the place, rather than an address. Applejack could read maps, no problem, but it was odd that there wasn't an address. It also had an appointment number, as well as the client's name, Rarity in this case.

The building was bland, drab and boring. It looked like a warehouse. There wasn't even a sign. If Applejack didn't know better, she'd swear these ponies were trying to keep common folk out.

Through the front doors, though, the lobby sparkled with a sterile, yet minimalist feel. The water fountain in the middle of the room barely burbled up, just cascading down a glass pane into a bed of grasses made from polished steel. If somepony were to fall on that, it'd be very painful. Why not just use real grass? It would probably be cheaper, as well as safer, and wouldn't feel so cold.

"Ma'am, we're not open to walk-ins," said the front desk attendant as sternly as he could while trying to sound kind. "I'm afraid you'll have to make an appointment."

"Ah have one," answered Applejack, holding up the piece of paper. "A friend a' mine gave it ta me."

The attendant looked her up and down, obviously mildly disgusted. "I'm sure she did, ma'am. You certainly need some help redefining your look."

Applejack pouted. "Ah hope that's just a one-off insult, 'cuz Ah don't take too kindly ta bein' called ugly. Ah have an appointment, given ta me as a gift."

The attendant immediately froze. It was obvious that he was not expecting Applejack to notice the back-hoofed insult. "Right. I'll need your appointment number, ma'am."

Applejack read off the appointment number. It was a really weird setup, containing letters, numbers and symbols in a twenty-five digit code. It was likely so that ponies couldn't guess it. "The name attached ta that is "Rarity," by the by. She was unable ta make it, on account a' Sapphire Shores needin' 'er help."

The attendant confirmed this information in the logbook. "Yes, that is accurate. It seems you are quite welcome here, miss, uh..."

"Applejack."

"Miss Appel-jack..." shivered the attendant, trying not to look obvious. "You are aware that if your claim comes up as fraudulent, we are authorized to assign punitive damages equal to ten times the price of the services rendered, yes?"

"It ain't gonna come up fraudulent," answered Applejack. "Ah couldn't very well wield the Element of Honesty if Ah were a filthy liar, could I?"

The attendant had to try very hard not to tell her how filthy he thought she was. After a brief pause, he smiled. "Right this way to the baths, miss Applejack..."

Applejack slipped down into the warm water, her skin immediately tingling, and soon, foaming. "What is this?"

The bath attendant, who was different from the front desk attendant, was looking through her basket of equipment. "We use a proprietary blend in our bathwater that removes a lot of the skin oils and dirt before the scrubbing even begins. If it's uncomfortable, we can drop in a neutralizing agent to tone it down, or move you into a plain water bath."

"Ah'm just askin," replied Applejack. "Ah've never foamed like this before."

"I've never seen it this strong, either, ma'am. It's not usually this aggressive. You must have a lot of grime on you to cause this amount of reaction."

"Well, Ah have been workin' hard for awhile, but Ah normally bathe regularly. It's just because Ah' been rushin' around these last two days with no break. An' Ah don't think that bench on the train was all too clean, neither."

"I see." She pulled out a long brush and reached down into the water and started to brush her way through Applejack's tail. "Let me know if it starts to hurt, because that means something's gone wrong. Also, try not to submerge your face, we have a separate treatment for that."

"Ah imagine you'll do my mane, here, too?"

"If you want," smiled the mare, "or we can move over to the stylist's chair." She paused for a moment. "Your tail's really nice, by the way. It looked like it was going to be full of split ends and knots, but it's actually silky smooth."

"Thank ya kindly. Ah try ta keep it brushed out an' trimmed down, but Ah'm not on the cuttin' edge of fashion, or anything like that."

"It's lovely. You could be a model. Or are you already?"

"Naw, Ah'm an orchard farmer by trade. Only reason Ah ended up here is because Ah'm close with one of Sapphire Shores's dress designers. She'd'a been here, but there was somethin' that went wrong with the dresses, and she had ta be there, instead."

"Yeah, I saw the name on the appointment notification. She did this one pantsuit for Sapphire to wear on a talk show that was absolutely gorgeous. I'm actually a little bit upset that I'm dealing with you, rather than her. No offense meant, I just wanted to talk to her."

"None taken," snorted Applejack. "This time, anyway. Does that stallion out front treat everypony like dirt, or did Ah just happen to walk in on the day his dog died a' cancer?"

"He's there to turn away the riff-raff," she sighed, grabbing a smaller brush for her coat. "Personally, I think we should have a smaller spa off to the side to cater to everypony else, with longer wait times and a reduced price tag, as we have the spare equipment, but I don't make the decisions around here."

"Shame. Y'all have good taste in tails."