Monday, November 5, 2012

My One and Only Spa Day

Wow, it's been 6 months since my last post?  I'm such a blog-failure!

The last time I blogged, I told you all about my horrifying experience getting a spray tan and I promised I'd tell you about my 'spa day' from years ago next.  I'm so sorry it has taken me this long to sit down and write.  Truth be told, I've been writing all summer.....I just haven't been writing for this blog.  I'll try very hard to manage my writing time better.  :-)

So, here it is.  My one and only day at the spa.  Please be warned: there are boobs and nakedness mentioned in this story.  I apologize in advance.

After Mackenzie was born, my husband, Scott, wanted to do something nice for me.  This was before the term 'push present' was commonly used, which is good, because I absolutely hate that term.  Anyway, Mackenzie was about 6 weeks old, which means I had spent those 6 weeks in a dazed stupor, sitting on the couch without a bra, breastfeeding constantly.  At least, that's how I remember it.

So, when Scott suggested a day to myself at a spa, I jumped at the chance.  Well, not literally.  Jumping without a bra, especially when you are breastfeeding, is not something I recommend.

My trip to a local Houston spa started off really well....once I got used to the robe I had to wear.  Apparently, they didn't have any 'plus sized' robes so, I had to do some major wrapping and tying to get their largest robe around my post-baby body.  And, even though I'd spent the last few weeks at home with my boobs all out, walking around a building with strangers everywhere while only wearing panties and a robe, did not make me feel relaxed.

I enjoyed most of my spa treatments so, I'll focus on the one I didn't enjoy:  the full-body massage.  This treatment took place later in the day and was something I was really looking forward to.  My only concern was that my boobs were going to explode because, at this point, it was the longest I had gone without feeding or pumping.

I walked into the dark room and met my masseuse.  I really wish I could remember this guy's name.  I've told this story so many times, he should get proper billing.  I was immediately uncomfortable with being given a post-baby massage by a guy but, of course, I didn't say anything.  I just wanted my massage so that I could go home.

I started off lying on my back.  My robe was off but my body was covered by a sheet.  The guy, let's call him Bob, would uncover a small part of my body, work his massage-magic, then cover it back up before moving to another part.  That I could handle and soon felt very relaxed.

The relaxation was gone as soon as Bob asked me to roll onto my stomach.  Panic started to set in as I realized how engorged my breasts were and I knew there was no way I could comfortably lie down on them.  I did the best I could but it was like trying to balance on a beach ball (or two), if you can imagine.  Sorry, for the visual.

My boobie-worries were quickly set aside, though, when I realized I was naked.  Yes, I was naked earlier, as well, but I was covered with a sheet.  Now that I was on my stomach, there was no sheet and images of my nude, post-baby body lying butt-up on a massage table was making me freak out just a bit.  In vain, I reached out like I was looking for the sheet or anything to cover my body.  Bob noticed and asked if I was cold.

Um, yeah, Bob.  That's it.  I'm cold.  Because I'm NAKED!  That's what I wanted to say but, instead, I give him a polite 'yes', thinking he will simply put the sheet back.

Guess what.

He didn't cover me with the sheet again.

He picked up a hand towel, yes, you read that correctly, and rolled it long-ways and....wait for it.....

Covered my butt-crack with it.  I.  KID.  YOU.  NOT.

Wow, thanks, Bob!  That towel on my crack really warms me up!  I might just break out in a sweat now!

Needless to say, I was frozen, not knowing what to do other than endure the rest of massage.

After it was over, Bob stepped out of the room so that I could put my robe back on and try to find my dignity.

I thought my time with Bob was done but, no.  Bob had more plans for me.

Bob wanted to talk.

He asked me how I enjoyed the massage and if I was relaxed or not.  Of course, I lied and said, yes, Bob.  It was great and I am very relaxed.  I was willing to say anything to get out of that room.

He then asked me to close my eyes and think of the first color that pops in my mind.  I did as he asked and said "Purple".  I'm not sure why I said "purple" other than the fact it is my favorite color but it was exactly what Bob wanted to hear.  He went on to tell me that the color purple signifies the most relaxed a person could be and the fact that I said "purple" meant he did an excellent job.  He was so happy with himself that he told me he was leaving the spa and starting his own business.  He even gave me a new business card and asked me not to tell the owners of the spa we were at.

When our chat was over, I went to the dressing room, quickly got dressed and left without getting the 'makeover' part of my spa package.  A few hours later, the spa called and asked if I wanted to reschedule and I politely declined.

I haven't been back to a spa since.


  1. Oh, I HATE it when they do that! I have been a professional Massage Therapist for 14 years and that was uncalled for. Poor you. You should have been covered at all times except for the part the therapist is working on and in your case you should have been given a pillow to put under your stomach to take some of the pressure off of your chest. Sorry to rant. But, that guy was a jerk and people like him give the profession a bad name. Asking you about the color was a nice touch to finish off the "I am a crazy person with a license to touch you" vibe. lol

    1. LOL! I didn't know you were a message therapist! Glad to know that's not how all MTs behave! I have had a couple of massages since then, by a woman, and they were much better!


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