It’s been well over two years since I had a massage so as part of my birthday month celebration (and thanks to a handy Living Social coupon) I went last night for some pampering. They say you should just relax during a massage but seriously, my mind never shuts off so this is pretty much how it went down…
My masseuse’s name is Jennifer and she’s magic. No doubt. Now I have an Organic Jenn (coined by Marla) and a Magic Jen. I’m collecting Jennifers. Nothing weird about that.
The table is fantastic because it’s heated and therefore I’m in mini heaven already. For some reason I wish Papaya was there and I could listen to her breathe instead of this strange voodoo music, but I’ll deal. Paya’s sounds are medicinal.
I make a point of not talking to Jennifer because I just want to relax. But truth, after her first touch I am in love with her. Not in the I-need-a-rainbow-flag kinda way, but more like the way I love macaroni and cheese. Or the person that does my pedicure. It’s fleeting and permanent at the same time.
This is fantastic. I should do this more. I need a weekly massage. How much would that cost? Too much. I don’t have that kind of money. I wish Eddie would just do it. When does Jesse come back? He gives great massages. I don’t know. Not soon enough. I wonder if I peek through this face holder hole will I see her feet? No, I can’t see them. Just relax.
This is amazing. I love you Jennifer. You are very good at this. I wonder what she is thinking about my tattoos on my back. I bet she has seen hundreds of tattoos. I should ask what was the best tattoo she ever saw? Shhh. No talking.
I wonder what does she do if someone is gross, like if they have sores and stuff or scabs? Are they lepers? I have no idea what a leper is – why did I say that? I should Google it. I’m getting my information from a cartoon. Sheesh. Note to self to Google lepers. Speaking of lep things – is a leopard spotted or is that a cheetah? Why am I almost 35 and I don’t know? Cheetahs are spotted. I have seen them run on Nat Geo and there was a commercial during the Super Bowl with a cheetah and a dumb ass guy who shoulda got back in the cage. Why are you thinking about this? Because I could be questioned one day on big cats and not know what a leopard looks like. I need to go to the zoo. Are there leopards there? I have no idea. They got rid of the elephants so the zoo can’t be trusted. Their accuracy has declined. I should go anyway because I love the orangutans. I love my new tattoo, too. It feels good. Holy shit you are way off track, you need to relax. I am relaxed what are you talking about?
I panic about the clock. I can’t see it. What if she cheats? This is supposed to be an hour long but what if she fast forwards the clock? Can someone do that? She is Magic Jenn. I bet she could. I hope she doesn’t. I don’t want this to end.
I should blog about this tomorrow. I haven’t blogged in a while. That’s such a weird word. Blog. Who would read it? Sandy Wick Fenton would read it. She reads everything I write on Facebook. She’s nice. For someone I’ve never met. I bet she would make a great Aunt. Aunt Sandy. I’m gonna call her that. Aunt Sandy. I could use more family. She would laugh if she knew I thought of her here. Sandy Wick Fenton. Has to be all three names. Except from here on out…she’s just Aunt Sandy. Whether she likes it or not. Sandy Wick Fenton. I have a bunch of names, too but I don’t use them all. Aunt Sandy doesn’t know about any of them. I wonder what she’s doing right now? I hope she’s reading Room. I can’t wait to get home and finish reading it. It’s awesome. But you have to do at least an hour of tax homework. Ugh. Shhhh no thinking about school. Relax.
It’s weird and comforting how Jennifer keeps a hand on me at all times as she moves around so I know where she is. I don’t think I would be startled if she just suddenly touched my foot though. It’s her job to touch me and she better do my feet.
My FEET! OMG I forgot to get the sock dust out from between my toes. Holy shit she is gonna get down there and think I’m filthy. Not to mention this oil she is using is going to mix with the sock dust and create a sock snot of sorts and we are going to have a mess on our hands. Well, she will, I won’t. I’ll just have to act like I don’t know what’s happening and she encounters sock snot all the time. Act natural. Relax. I can’t. Sock Snot. I can’t stop thinking about it.
It’s not time for feet yet. She’s done with my back which is a very sad time. It’s the best part. Thank you, Magic Jenn. My back thanks you. Please come back. She doesn’t. She moves on to legs which is not my best feature. I shaved yesterday but I think I Chia-Petted back to stubble already. Sorry Jennifer. I think our relationship is taking a turn for the worse. I can’t imagine what the cellulite looks like as she manipulates it. I try to picture it but all I can think of is buttery grits. I’m kinda hungry. I’m going to have prunes when I get home.
After she mashes the grits in my thighs she asks me to roll over. I’m so groggy and cozy that I want to say please just do my back again but I don’t know what I said. I mumbled something. It was probably I love you. I hope that’s not what I said.
So now I’m on my back and slightly more awake and a little less in love. I can hear the faint sounds of children carrying on somewhere outside this room, probably outside the building. I know Jennifer can hear them, too. They should give her a BB gun and a slidey window where she can open fire on them to shut them up. This is her job and she needs it quiet and peaceful. Goddamn kids ruin everything.
On another note, since I’m lying on my back now I figure Jennifer must realize how super skinny I have instantly become. I am thinnest when laying down thanks to my friend Gravity. Gravity makes my cheekbones stand out like Joan Crawford and my tummy scoops in a bit like a bowl. OK maybe a tiny dip like a plate but Gravity made it flat nonetheless. And surely Jennifer can see (and feel now that she is doing the front of my legs) the massive bike muscles I have developed. She should comment on them. If she doesn’t I may not tip as well. I worked hard on those. Come to think of it, she can’t see how skinny I am at all because the blanket is covering me. No wonder she didn’t say anything. The truth is, all my fat spreads out like pancake batter around me so I look like Papaya when her fat rolls spill to her sides on the floor. I’m gross. Fuck you Jenn. I don’t really like you anyway.
It turns out there is no sock snot issue because she doesn’t do my toes. That’s weird. She should have. But I’m ok with the feet part at least. She did ok. I thought about opening my eyes for a second to look at the clock but what if we make eye contact on accident? That would be awkward. I can’t let that happen. Her face would reveal this: Bitch you a ho. You got barely any polish left on that nasty big toe and none on the others. What kinda skank are you? You got skank feet. I’m ashamed. She’s right. I can’t afford a pedicure right now and I am too lazy to paint my own toes. I’m a skanky ho with sock dust. I keep my eyes shut. I can’t face her.
I’m unloving her just as she finishes the first arm because she didn’t do my fingers. Another masseuse had done my fingers before. That was great. Magic Jenn isn’t so magic. She has no idea what she is doing. And she keeps pumping oil into her hands. I honestly have no idea if she has gloves on or not. Does it matter? I don’t know. I try to remember how many oil pumps she did. At least 400 on my back. 200 probably on each leg and countless others on my arms. I’m a walking grease monkey! My clothes will stick to me like a wet t-shirt contest when I leave here. And CRISIS! Eddie is re-caulking the tub as we speak and he said no showers until tomorrow. Holy moses I sleep with three dogs and that means I’m gonna wake up oiled and dog haired instead of tarred and feathered. Oy vey. What the fuck am I gonna do now? How much of this massage have I just un-enjoyed worrying about this? Maybe I can take a shower at Sue’s. That’s only a little weird. I can shower at Jesse’s but the power is off so it would be dark. I need to change my sheets.
Jennifer is working on my neck now which means this whole experience is ending soon. Damn. I want to stay. I love her again. This part is excellent. She’s very good at this. Oh wait, that hurts. That’s a very tender neck muscle that I did not know I had. Why are you hurting me like that? Why am I letting you? This is not a fair fight. I’m gonna tell you to stop in two seconds. No I won’t. I’m non-confrontational. Dammit, just hurry up and finish hurting me. Oh man, now the other side. Ugh. I hate you Jenn. It’s over between us.
Almost. Now she puts a super hot washcloth on my face which I was not expecting. Holy mackerel. Where did that come from? You didn’t tell me you were doing this and I hate to tell you but the wetness is heavy on my eyelids and I can feel my mascara sliding off. I look like a wildebeest under all this pretty. You have no idea what you’re about to encounter. Poor you Jenn. Ok the cloth is gone but now she is rubbing oil onto my face in this weird, some-but-not-all pattern. Very Navaho. What? Where did that come from? Why Navaho? I don’t know, it feels Indian. Yeah, but Navaho? I said I don’t know. But Shawn said there’s some Indian in us on Grandmom’s side so, Navaho it is. Why wouldn’t we be the popular Indians? Were Navaho’s popular? I’ll have to Google it.
OK you’re done. Done? But, but, wait, I want more. OK I say. Thank you I say. She leaves and I stagger off the blessed heated bed and look in the mirror and the wildebeest looks back at me (full of sagging pancake batter). I look like I have been sleeping for ten days. Wouldn’t that be nice?
I can’t wait to do it again. I make sure to get Magic Jennifer’s hours on her business card. See you soon I hope.
I have to go home and Google lepers and Navahos and plan a trip to the zoo.
