Alice's Luxury Massage

Today I had my first ever hour-long professional massage. I say this as though it is a big turning point in my life--the first day of the rest of my days of piles of money being spent on massages...Don't worry. I am still in my right mind, and, yes, I'm still broke as a joke. In reality I just indulged in a Groupon for a luxury massage for an hour. So...here are some things that happened:

-I arrived a little late because my GPS took me behind the location, so I just thought I was in a sketchy O'Charley's parking lot. I called to explain my tardiness and location and the receptionist then had to tell me, "Ma'am, you are actually here. Just walk to us." I showed up at the front door 20 seconds later. Good start.

-Knowing you're about to get a massage makes you downright giddy apparently. I was given some waivers to sign and forms to fill out. I figured the receptionist would get a giggle from my paperwork. Some things that were written include my "Is there anywhere the therapist should not touch?" answer being a checkmark in the "pectorals box" and a side comment of "My chest! LOL!" Also, when it asked "How often would you like to get a massage?" I wrote, "I'm broke! :(" And, let's not forget that in the "What qualities would you like in a therapist?" I said, "The ability to get this fatty knot out of my back!"

-But, I DIDN'T give the papers to the front desk, Tim, my new therapist came in (right as I was texting and thus could not shake his hand at first and felt immediately like I was 14). He read through everything immediately. He was not amused.

-I showed Tim my big knot. It's this honkin' thing I amassed starting last July. He started telling me about stretches I could do. I explained I stretch when I exercise, but rarely my back. He asked what sports I played, so I said without missing a beat, "Oh, I'm a runner." I am not a runner. I run. I like running. I've done runs...but I'm not a runner. Yet, that is what we talked about for the rest of the session. I pretended I knew what he/I was saying. I did not.

-After the chit chat it was time to get rubbed, so he said, "Just take off however much clothes you want, and get under the covers." I began to lift up my dress, and he very quickly said, "Uh. Please allow me to exit the room." Well how was I supposed to know!?

-I took off everything but my panties. When he came back in I was readjusting my arms and accidentally flashed him. We both pretended rather cooly that nothing had happened. Or, if it had, I was wearing a skin suit and it was fine.

-Throughout the knot releasing time I had difficulties understanding his questions like, "On a scale of one to ten, how much good pain is this?" I tried to answer them, but usually he had to clarify several times.

-He eventually gave up some of the knot so I could enjoy a relaxing massage. He rubbed my legs. I have not shaved in a long time.

-He rubbed my feet. They have been full of dark blue fuzz on the account of a new rug in my suite.

-I rather liked the neck rub. And, then, with a few more lessons on stretching I was done. I tried the free water-massage bed on the way out. Its like being on a hot trampoline with a car wash underneath you. People like weird things.

I don't think professional massages are going to be for me.

But nobody knows what lies behind the days before we die die die die die.