Tuesday, June 23, 2009

she was greaaaaaaaaaaaaat

As I sat in the lobby area awaiting my masseuse who would undoubtedly help me relax away some of Friday's stress, I was feeling incredibly grateful for this treat via a Mother's day gift card. When I checked in, the guy said, "Oh, you're with Kathy. She's greaaaaaaaat," and I wondered if he had ever grimaced as he announced who the appointment was with and followed it with a, "Well...thanks for coming in." So I took his endorsement with a grain of salt.

A little while later the door opened and out came a grandmotherly type. Short. A little plump. Very cheerful. Decidedly NOT the masseuse type (but what IS the masseuse type? Tall Swedish people?). She called my name and I thought, "Really?! THIS is your greaaaaaaat Kathy? Did I miss a note of sarcasm?"

She greeted me with a very 50's housewife-type voice. It reminded me of the voiceover I did for the website Joel has been working on. Except sweeter.

As we walked into the room, there was a faint aroma and she quickly apologized for the air freshener. "It just smelled a little too..." *wrinkled her nose* "...masculine." (giggles) I asked if she was tired after so many massages (wondering if this lady could really handle it). "Not right now," and then she leaned in as if to disclose a secret, "But I tell you what, tomorrow I will be. I've noticed that on Sundays I'm wiped out."

After I was laying on the table, she came in and asked if I preferred oil, lotion or cream. Huh, I don't know that I've ever been given that option - usually it's just scents. So I asked what she preferred or recommended. "Well," she calmly and breathily asked, "Do you get acne?" Not really. "And do you have a hairy back end?"

My eyes flew open and she must have seen the stricken look on my face despite the low light, because she then giggled and said, "I'm just kidding, Sarah," practically squeaking the kidding, "but you *know*... the gentlemen with the hair...it makes it so with cream I'm just really tugging on that hair, whether it's on their chest or elsewhere." I couldn't help it. I giggled along with her.

I don't usually talk during massages (not that I've had THAT many), and while there was a lot of quiet, I actually found conversation with her easy and relaxing. Several other comments from her had me finally declare, "Kathy. You are not at ALL what I expected." Another giggle from her, "I get that a lot."

No kidding. That was, by far, the best massage I've ever had. She worked muscles to the point where she would sweetly say, "You know, the men cry when I do this to them." (more giggles) At one point it was so hard that when she asked if it was too much I replied, "No, but I kind of want to swear." She replied, "Not until we're friends on Facebook." Oh good heavens. Then she cheerfully asked, "Are you thinking that this is the Mother's day massage from hell?" Ha! Who would have known that I would have delighted in pain.

Eighty minutes is a long time to have someone prodding your inner stress-wound muscles. It was divine. As I sat up afterward, I had to take my time getting dressed and exiting the room. I felt woozy and I kind of slurred my words. As she handed me a bottle of water, she patted my shoulder and told me it was a pleasure to meet me. It was one of those times I genuinely meant it when I said the pleasure was all mine.

It got me thinking about how sometimes we need a bit of pain and pressure in our lives. We need to stretch and push things in ways we didn't think or know or expect. And we might feel bruised and perhaps a little broken, but it's for our good. So we can relax later. Now, let's be honest, I'd much rather a deep-tissue massage than face certain life trials. Who wouldn't? But I'm trying to apply this metaphor to my life, to maintain my sanity. At least until I can get back in to see Kathy. Maybe I'll go find her on Facebook.


Melin said...

You're not going to believe this, or care really, but I just had a massage today too. I love them. They should be mandatory.