Today I set out to get a massage at the new spa that opened by my house. It has been about a year since my last massage and when my shoulders became less like flesh and more like boulders, I figured I was about due.
Enter a GUY. I had never had a massage by a guy before ... well, I haven't PAID for a massage by a guy before ... meaning, I've HAD a massage by a guy, but usually one I'm slee ...
Annnnyyywhooo ... so my masseur enters and my first thought after "Uhhhh?!?!?" was "Did I shave my legs?" But then I got sidetracked by the PONYTAIL and FANNY PACK and full beard. I did a quick glance around to make sure I hadn't accidentally wandered into a Whole Foods. But no, that was clearly a massage table and the receptionist at the front desk had appeared to acknowledge that this guy was indeed an employee and not some random hippy that walked in off the street. And he was carrying a clipboard with him, so I relaxed ... kinda.
I was still a little skeeved out by being naked under a sheet with a guy that I hardly knew without so much as dinner or cocktails first. But he did his best to make me feel comfortable ... or maybe to bore me into submission? He started talking about geodes and the rock conventions at Big Sur that his mom took him to when he was little ... I believe there were mentions of jade and moonstone at some point. But I can't remember specifics.
Because by that time I had finally relaxed. It had occurred to me somewhere along the way that this guy, in addition to all of the above, and who was named after a constellation, probably dug a chick with a little hair on her legs.
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