If you follow me on St. Louis Kids Magazine you’ll recall that I recently joined a gym in an effort to lose about 30 pounds by next week. And I was really on a roll there for a few hours but experienced a minor setback when McDonald’s began offering a new bacon habanero ranch Quarter Pounder. I mean… WTF. How am I supposed to lose weight when fast food tastes so Channing Tatum?
Needless to say, I took a little weight loss hiatus. However, since I’m paid up until the end of August and the gym offers free child care, I decided to take advantage of the spa services they offer and schedule a massage. I needed a little relaxation from all of the stress of thinking about losing weight, after all.
The masseuse instructed me to take off everything including my undies, which was a new one for me, but then scanned the medical history on my chart and told me to leave my socks on. You shower barefoot ONE TIME in a hostel in Prague…
Anyhoo, so there I am, naked as the day I was born minus my gym socks, laying face down on that round little pillow, staring at the floor. The soothing music, the incense, the silence, the warm sheets on my bare ass… I was tempted to lock the door and take a nap for an hour.
“Any specific areas you want me to work on today?” She asked quietly as she entered the room. She was about 5 foot nothing and 100 and nothing.
“Well, I have three little kids that I’m always carrying around and my shoulders are a bit stiff.”
“Okay, honey,” She said sweetly, squirting on the lotion.
She then attempted to remove my flesh from my scapula. I must have gasped because she said, “I use my elbows to reeeeally work the muscles. Too much pressure?”
“Just a tad,” I wheezed.
“It might hurt now, but you’ll thank me tomorrow. You hear all those little crunchies?”
I tasted blood.
“Well we’ve got to get all those bad little crunchies out of there.”
Fortunately I was face down because I was trying my best to be brave and not cry. My eyes watered and bulged in the little pillow and I’m pretty sure I looked something like this:
I suddenly felt sympathy for biscuit dough. I did my best to remember my pattern breathing from Lamaze class. I looked up at the clock… only two minutes had passed. I deduced the reason she wanted me underwear-less was because most people void themselves while being tortured.
Usually I prefer silence during a massage but I dug and prodded her for information to keep her talking in hopes that a conversation would keep my mind off the pain. By the end of the session I knew all about her abusive father and her ex-husband who had an affair with her sister.
Finally it was over, and I stood up.
I wasn’t aware of the feeling of carrying a bowling ball around my neck before the massage, but suddenly I was aware of the absence of the feeling of carrying a bowling ball around my neck. I felt about six inches taller. I felt like I could do a back flip off of the table and fly out of the room.
“See?” She said, after seeing the look on my face.
Our next date is on Friday.