Monday, April 16, 2007

On Massages

I got a massage tonight. The massage itself was awesome, very sports-therapy-and-acupressure-we-are-not-fucking-around kinda thing. This place has a great (deserved!) reputation. But. There is a limit to how far even a utilitarian massage can veer from the Enya and lavender bullshit, and I have a few questions:

(1) Must you wear mandals? When I look through the donut hole and follow your courduroy pants down to your feet, my eyes should not widen at the sight of hair and toenails bound in what appear to be Tevas.

(2) Is Led Zeppelin the best choice of music? I'll grant you The Rain Song is perhaps the most relaxing of the Zeppelin catalog, but it seemed out of place. My mind kept running to Wayne and Garth and "No Stairway to Heaven" which is not what I want when somebody's rubbing my body with oil.

(3) This one is not a question but a directive: No mouthbreathing.
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2 comments:

Anonymous said...

i agree with your observations.

but i have one word for you...grog.

it could have been worse. he could have been stifling a cough with mouth smacking swallows. there could have been a lot of sweat, sweat coming off his face, sweat on his back, and the worst, sweat around his man boobs. He could have smelt of wierd cheese. He could have said to you, in his russian accent "it's okay", while rubbing your legs down from your hip to your calf, so hard it is pulling your underwear down and snapping back up. He might have said to you in a scary mocking voice "don't worry" when he pulls up the faded pink towel that is barely covering you, as you flip over. and when you get the courage to open up your eyes in the donut hole, you are given the pleasure of seeing his fat stomach and cinching pants along his package.

i'm just saying.

April 18, 2007 at 8:22 AM
RB said...

Oh Grog. Puts a smile on my face just thinking of that episode.

April 18, 2007 at 11:41 AM

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