This post has nothing to do with working in a bar, going to a bar, or anything related to drinking. However, since it is the strangest thing that has happened to me, maybe ever, it deserves some words. Let me just say that I have had tons of massages from tons of people in tons of places and none of them where like what I experienced today.
Even though I am unable to use coupons at restaurants or grocery stores (I have an intense fear of appearing cheap) I have been able to buy living social vouchers for massages. Lately since I have been training for a half marathon my upper back has been really bothering me so I have been spending most Saturdays getting massages. Thanks to Living Social, it has saved me a ton of money. Today I showed up to my massage at a new place (I wont say where or with who but I can tell you I had never met the woman before today). I told her about my running, a head on collision I was involved in a few years ago that initially caused the pain, and working at the bar which exacerbates it.
She directed me to take everything off, including underwear, which is unusual. She told me, "You may get wet and you don't want to go home in wet underwear." Apparently she didn't understand what she just said so I dismissed it and feeling a tad uneasy, I undressed and laid down on the table as she directed me (she was out of the room at this time). As I laid there waiting for her to return I was overwhelmed with a strange feeling that something horrible was going to happen. Was it because she locked the front door behind her? Then it dawned on me, the strange feeling was coming from the music she was playing. At first it sounded like a thunderstorm, and then it morphed into something out of a Hitchcock movie. There was strange keyboard music that made me certain that my day was going to end up with a scene from the Crying Game.
She came in and since I was looking down I could see she was barefoot. I have a thing about feet. I despise them. I don't like people touching my feet and I certainly don't like looking at or touching other peoples feet. But fine, whatever, it's her place. She said she was going to start off with some vibrator work, "Do you like that?" Usually not with other women I thought but instead I said something like, "Sure?" Thankfully she couldn't see the horrified expression on my face. After rubbing some weird vibrator all over me (I didn't like it by the way) she moved on to pumping oil all over her hands. So much oil it was dripping on my back and completely freaked me out. What she started doing next I can't even describe. I didn't think she was really serious. It was like a fake movie massage from someone who was pretending to me a massage therapist. I was expecting to look up and see Steve Carell or Vince Vaughn. At one point she was rubbing so vigorously and my head was moving back and forth so much she stopped to ask, "Oh is that too much?" Whiplash should have been your first clue.
When she got to my arms the movement was like an Indian burn or a snake bite (depending on where you grew up). Normally hand massages are my favorite part of a massage. When she was rubbing my hands it was like she was cleaning them rather than massaging them. Then she moved onto my legs and feet. Normally I tell massage therapists that I have extremely ticklish feet but I had forgotten today. Also, I ran 12 miles yesterday and worked 8 hours at the bar so my feet were a little sensitive anyway. That didn't stop her from squeezing them as she was wringing out a towel, and trying to put her fingers in between my toes. I can't even put my own fingers in between my toes! Even though I acknowledged how ticklish I am by this point, she just won't stop!
Next it was time for the mud wrap and steam. Somehow I had pictured myself in white robe sitting in an all white steam room sipping champagne with some other ladies. Instead, she rubbed scalding purple mud on me and then placed a tent over my entire body with the exception of my head. The mud was only on my arms and legs and I was laying on my back. She then said she would massage by face and head. I almost wanted to beg her not too. I don't really like having my scalp massaged anyway and the way she did it, it felt like she was itching my head. Meanwhile, my body is enclosed in a steam tent. There is a bolster under my knees which created a ramp for sweat to pour down towards my crotch and I was soon laying in a big puddle of sweaty mud. She also kept making me drink water out of a straw which made me feel like I was in an iron lung or was going to get cut in half by a magician. It should have been refreshing but since all I could think of was the sweat pooling under me, it tasted like the run off from the sweat suit stunt on Jackass 3. Finally she got the tent off and wiped me down. However the part of me that was the most sweaty and disgusting she thankfully left alone. As she was wiping me down she asked, "Are you enjoying it so far?" I forced a smile to spare her feelings and said, "Oh yes!" As she continued to get the mud off I willed a pleasant expression to my face. "Look happy, look happy" I told myself. She then explained she would apply some moisturizing lotion that contained no chemicals, it was totally green. When someone says "Green" to me, I automatically think "hippy." Thankfully the lotion didn't smell too bad, but after all that sweating I definitely left there smelling like a hippy on the last day of Bonnaroo. I couldn't get home and into the shower fast enough. Instead, she welcomed me to a sitting room where I could enjoy a cup of tea and some dried fruit and crackers. Anyone who knows me has heard me say, 'I don't drink hot things and I dont' eat cold things." I know it's weird but I don't drink coffee and I don't eat ice cream. For some reason I felt for this lady. She was really sweet and her ineptness just made her more endearing. So I choked down some tea and tried to eat a cracker (I am still, hours later still picking cracker crap out of my teeth). Finally I jumped up and announced I had to go to the bathroom so I could leave. I shoved a tip in her hand and left telling her how great I felt, and I ran to my car and flew home.
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