Hubs got me a massage for Christmas this past Christmas. He doesn’t usually buy me gift certificates, but did this time. Probably because I told him “Seriously dude…the ONLY thing I want for Christmas is a gift certificate for a massage…THE ONLY THING I WANT”.
I planned on starting my billionth attempt at a good workout schedule and would use the massage as a reward. That changed from a ‘reward’ to ‘fuck it, I want my massage’.
I took a personal day from work and decided to spend the day being a slug and getting a massage. After doing a lot of nothing, I headed out for my treat.
The receptionist told me that Jeff was available and that he was one of their most requested therapists.
I am not a prude but I am kind of a prude. I prefer a female therapist. However, I decided to THINK about removing the prude stick from my ass and go with the most requested therapist in the whole place.
The receptionist handed me a medical form to fill out. She told me as soon as I finished, I would be taken to the ‘Tranquility’ room to wait for Jeff.
The form was standard; injuries, illnesses, stuff like that. Then, some check boxes indicating where you would like or NOT like to be touched.
Gluteus Muscles. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Glutes. That’s my butt. Do I want my BUTT touched? NO. No touching the butt.
Feet. Damn. I used to love a good foot massage, but thanks to the dickwad aging process, I have nerve damage in my feet and foot rubs went from being one of my favorite things to outright uncomfortable. So…feet are right out. Besides, my heels are a mess now and I forgot to remove the left over polish from my last pedicure.
Abdomen. HAHAHAHA…is there a ‘FUCK NO’ box to check?
Pectoral Muscles. Okay…is this code for boobs? Because I don’t want my boobs massaged. Or is this just the front of my shoulders? The front of my shoulders is fine. But not the boobs. Okay, okay, okay..they do NOT mean the boobs. No way would they touch my boobs. Yes, the pectoral muscles are fine.
The tranquility room was like a fancy doctor waiting room with poor lighting and better magazines. I was there alone for a few minutes before another patron was brought in. She was my age-ish with better hair and definitely in better shape.
I live in a somewhat upper middle class community. Our family is one of those that keep that bar from rising too high. The other woman looked like she belonged.
While feeling uncomfortable and out-of-place plus being annoyed with myself for feeling uncomfortable and out-of-place, I heard a voice call my name.
And there was Jeff. I had envisioned an aging jock with gray wavy hair. I did not envision a 25-year-old surfer looking dude with a Beatles haircut and peace symbol tattoos on both arms.
Fucking hell. He looks like he’s about my son’s age. MY SON’S AGE! And why don’t we just go ahead and make this more weird by thinking about my son.
I followed Jeff back to the room and tried my best to not look like I was mildly freaked out.
Jeff was professional. He told me that he would step outside for a few moments while I got ready and that it was their policy to assume that any part of the body left covered up was ‘off limits’.
Fuck. And now it’s back to the boobs. If I take my bra off, does that mean he thinks he can touch my boobs? Because no. Oh My God. What if the reason Jeff is so requested is because a bunch of bored housewives want their boobies fondled? But if I leave it on would that mean that my shoulder blades are off-limits? Because that’s one of the best places to have rubbed. Shit, and look at this bra anyway. It’s at LEAST fifty shades of gray. Fuck that. This is coming off.
As it were, Jeff was not only professional, he was also good.
It only took five minutes of feeling uncomfortable before giving into to surfer dude with the Beatles haircut. I had some knots in my shoulder blades that burned like fire as he worked out those kinks..that hurts so good thing? Yeah, that was it. As far as the prudish stick up my ass about a male therapist goes, well..it just melted away like a prude stick suppository. All I did was feel good.
Okay, there might have been ONE other moment. He did the karate chop thing on my back. I didn’t know people really did the karate chop thing; I thought that was just in the movies. It felt good but I was somewhat taken aback and I almost laughed. Also, I really wanted to go AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH just to hear the noise. Kinda like when you talk into a fan to hear your robot voice.
All in all, I’d go back and see Jeff again. They have a monthly installment plan where you get a once a month massage at a discounted rate. I AM considering that plan. Just as soon as all the bills are routinely paid on time and I have no medical debt. Which means it’s never going to happen. Still…a girl can dream, right?
Also, he didn’t touch my boobs.