Oh, Wait. I Was Supposed to Relax??

I've been having a lot of problems with my back, here lately, so my husband decided to be sweet and book a massage for me.  I was thrilled, but then I was horrified, because I hadn't shaved my legs in three days and there was no way freaking way that I was gonna let someone rub around on me with three days growth going on.  So on my lunch, I ran home and shaved those bad boys real quick.  After I took care of that, I went back to work and proceeded to look forward to my massage.

Now, I don't know if any of you are like me, but I tend to think weird things when I go to have a massage.  Like, when they hand me the robe and slippers, I wonder how they were cleaned.  If I don't smell fabric softener, I don't think it's clean and well, I couldn't smell fabric softener on that robe.  Yeah, it was all fluffy, but no smell.   And those shoes, well, just how well did they clean those and HOW do they clean them?  Cause you know, when the massage is done and you're all greased up, your greasy feet go in those little slippers and you slip and slide on them on that walk back to the women's changing room.  How do they degrease those bad boys?  And the drink they offer you...I always want the iced peach tea because it's soooo good.  Then I wonder why I can't find a tea that tastes like that.  Then I look around the room and everyone else is drinking wine, but I can't do that because I'm getting a massage and trust me....wine....massage....this equals very inebriated Jennay and a ride in the back of a police vehicle due to one of two things.  1) inappropriate behavior in a spa (for some reason, I'm thinking that standing on a chair and singing "We will, we will rock you" is not behavior appropriate for a day spa. or 2) DUI due to being extremely relaxed from a massage and wine.  All of these thoughts in my head and the massage hasn't even begun. 

However, my REALLY weird thoughts start the moment I take that robe off and slide under the little blanket.  First off, the room is cold.  Hangover II comes to mind and all I can think is "Chow so cold."  So I hurry up and hang my robe on the wall and kick off the little slippers and climb into that nicely heated up bed.  Shit, I can't remember if she said face up or face down.  The little face thing isn't on here, so I'm gonna go with face up.  I'm all settled, then I start thinking on the whole underwear thing.  Do most people wear their underwear during a massage, or do they take those bad boys off?  (I wear mine.)  And if they take them off, is that like a secret signal to massage the ass cheeks?  Or would they even massage the ass cheeks?  Where is freaking John Travolta when I have these questions?  The door opens and in walks "Liz".  She lowers the lights and says here we go. 

Now, I'm not a talker during a massage.  And usually, when I'm feeling nervous about something, I will start chatting away.  I don't know why I'm so nervous during a massage, but I am.  But for some reason, this is the only situation where I don't start rambling on.  What I am doing is focusing on trying to relax.  Closing my eyes.  Relax, Jennay.  Relax.  Inhale, exhale.  Okay.  Okay.  I open my eyes and with what little light that is on in the room, I think that I make out that Liz may have a little cliffhanger.  SHUT YOUR EYES.   SHUT YOUR EYES.  No....I had to see that wrong.  Please God, tell me that there was not a bat in the cave.  Thinks to self, "your wonderful, dear, sweet husband scheduled this for you to relax.....so freaking relax already.  You did not see something in that girl's nose.  It's too dark in here to see anything.  Shut your eyes and relax.  Geesh, Jennay."  Okay, I'm relaxing.   My shoulders go at ease, my back loosens up and my legs and arms finally just lie still without looking like boards.  The massage is moving on and I'm relaxed.  Maybe a little too much, because all of a sudden I felt the need to let one rip.  WHAT?  Hell no, not here.  Here we go again.  Tense up.  Ass cheeks tight as a rock.  "Go away, go away....please don't do this here."  All I can think of is The Big Sexy saying, "Let it ease on out."  only, you can't do that here.  NOT HERE.  Okay....I'm good.  It's passed.  But it was noticeable because Liz just asked if I was okay and I lied and said I had a little cramp.  Well, kind of lied.  It was a cramp.  Only the gassy kind. 

A few minutes later, it was time to turn over.  Now, I don't know about you, but the flip time is always awkward.  "Turn over to your stomach, but turn away from me."  she says, while holding the blanket up.  This shit takes me a minute or two.  I mean, I have to get my legs positioned, then I have to grab my boobs and help to sling them over, all without exposing myself to her.  Now, it's during this time that I tend to think "this is where John Travolta probably made his alleged 'move' on the masseuse."  (I don't know why I think so much about John during my massages because I don't for one second believe he did what those people claim he did, but yet, I still make up these scenarios in my head.)  Okay, so I'm flipped and now my face is supposed to go into that little donut thing.  I never, ever get this right.  And this time was no exception.  Apparently, I didn't scooch high enough to where my face was directly in the center of the hole, but Liz had already began to work on me, so I remained where I was and I stayed like that for 40 minutes.  Normally, it seems like that time flies by.  But when you are all hunched up in the wrong position, trust me, 40 minutes seems like a lifetime.  It was during this time that whatever Liz ate for lunch, chose to start rumbling around in her stomach and I began to think that she was having to clinch her ass cheeks together, just as I had done just a few minutes earlier.  I don't know how she continued to work through that because from what I could hear, there was a fight going on in her belly....one that lasted a good long while and one that was very loud. 

Finally, we're done.  "Take your time getting up, I will meet you outside the door."  She says.  It's a good thing she said for me to take my time, because due to my crooked ass way of putting my face in the donut pillow, I had a stiff neck and it took a moment to loosen it up and come to a seated position.  I put my robe and slippers on and slip and slide my way to the door on those greasy slippers, where Liz greets me with, wait....water???....not my tea?  "You have extremely dry skin and you need to hydrate as much as possible."  What the hell?  Katy from I Want A Dumpster Baby is punking me, isn't she?  Hydrate.....hydrate my ass.  Give me my peach tea.  I give her a dirty look, say thanks and glide on down to the Ladies room.  I quickly shower, dress, and go to the receptionist to pay.  "Thank you so much, Mrs. Jennay."  she says.  "Is there anything else we can do for you?"  Yeah, um....I need to book another massage for Wednesday because I have crick in my neck.  And I walk out the door with the tune of  "Staying Alive" playing in my head.