This past week I had my first professional massage. I’ve had a handful of ten minute chair massages over the years but never a full lay on the table massage. People that know me in real life will tell you, if there’s anyone in this world that needs to relax, it’s me. I was completely unprepared for the experience.
I went into the men’s locker room of the spa and was handed a robe to put on. A giant robe. A robe that Andre the Giant might have worn. Considering that it was a re-used spa robe, it’s possible that Andre the Giant actually did wear it. I looked like a kid trying on his Dad’s clothes.
First, my massage was thirty minutes later than it was scheduled, so being annoyed by that, I worked up a little extra tension right off the bat.
Never having had a massage before, and being certain that my glutes were as relaxed as they needed to be I left my underwear and athletic shorts on. When I got to the room she asked me to lay down on the table and put my face in what looked like a hemorrhoid doughnut at the end of the table. Even though it had a little disposable cover that was allegedly replaced after each massage, I couldn’t help but wonder how many sweaty faces with ringworm had been in that before me.
Then she tells me, “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.” I’m thinking, “I’m pretty sure I don’t need breathing instructions. I’ve been doing it pretty successfully for my whole life.” Of course later, some aroma in the room disagreed with me and my allergies acted up and I was all stuffy and could barely breathe with my face in that stupid little ring. Then I was thinking, “Oh my God! I’m going to die of suffocation during my massage!” It also occurred to me that she might be a witch and knew my sarcastic thought about her breathing comment and was exacting revenge. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened.
Anyone remember the Seinfeld episode where George got a massage by a male message therapist and was horrified during the massage because “it moved”? I had a female massage therapist and it didn’t move.
Another worry that went through my head was the issue of farting. That was really my biggest fear. What if I got so relaxed that well, one slipped out? I especially feared that when she pulled my shorts and underwear down a bit to work on my upper glutes. I’m not sure if upper glutes is the right term, but I’m also sure that despite my work at the gym, I don’t have both upper and lower glutes, yet. I was worried that while she was massaging my upper glutes and hips that she would squeeze one out of me. As much as I know that would make for a funny story, fortunately I had laid off the dairy for a full 24 hours prior.
Then she also massaged my scalp. That really annoyed me. Despite how tightly wound I am, I’m pretty sure that my hair does not get tense. My only thought was that she was completely messing up my hair.
To answer the title question, no it wasn’t one of “those massages and all in all I enjoyed it and would do it again.
Later in the week I also went to a casino. I’ve only gambled in a casino once before and that was at five in the morning and I was almost the only customer there. This time it was full on 2 a.m. gambling at a table with other gamblers. I was not their favorite. As I said, I’m not an experienced gambler, so at the blackjack table some of my choices would elicit shouts of “No!” or “What are you doing?” And, much to the joy of the experienced gamblers, I would shout “Yahtzee!” every time I won a hand. I found that tremendously funny. My playing partners probably not, but I didn’t care.
If you haven’t voted for me for Funniest Blogger for the Annual Bloggers Bash Awards, you can do so by going HERE. Have a great Saturday! ~Phil
