Sunday, June 26, 2011

Couples Massage

Scott's parents got us a gift certificate for a couple's massage for our birthday back in February. Nice, right? Here it is, damn near July and we just got around to using it. Scott made our appointment a few weeks ago.

Isn't it just like me to dread being massaged? I know, I should just relax and enjoy myself. I don't think it's in my nature to relax and enjoy myself. I live my life on the cusp of a panic attack. It's draining, but also makes every accomplishment seem that much more exciting. It was a little over a year ago that I got my very first massage. I've had one other massage experience since then at East Village Spa. That went well. Now here we were at Sahar's about to get a couples massage.

They told us to get there early and fill out some paperwork. You have to put down an emergency contact for God knows what reason. I put down Scott and he seemed to believe this was the most foolish thing a person could do. "I'll be in the room with you. How can I be your emergency contact?" Luckily nothing happened to either of us during our massage. If something would have happened to him I would have threw up my hands and said, "Don't look at me! Call his emergency contact."

We are lead to the locker rooms and given bizarrely complicated instructions on how to put on our robes. I was told to put mine on like a strapless dress and Scott's would go around his waist. This confused both of us and we both ended up failing at putting on robes correctly. I just put on the dress robe thing, even though there was a normal robe in the locker. I figured that if he made a point to tell me about this strapless thing that should be the robe I used. A lady came by and asked me if I needed a robe. WTF? Am I not wearing a robe? No, I guess I needed to put on two robes. Then Scott went into his locker room and put on a second robe. We're just hanging out, being awkward, waiting to go back and get our massages.

Oh, here they are. Our masseuses. They asked us, "What brings you here?" Scott told them, "My parent's got us a gift certificate." We get to our room and we need to de-(double) robe and get on our tables and under blankets. There's a bathtub in the room. Why? What goes on in these rooms that requires a tub? This isn't really my scene, so maybe you guys know.

We get massaged, get dressed and walked out of the room to see our masseuses standing there with tiny cups of water, smiling at us. They ask how we are doing, we're doing good. Then they show us a room and tell us it's the relaxation room and we can go in there if we want. Scott and I must have seemed apprehensive so she said, "Or you can go to the locker rooms." "Yeah, we can just go to the locker rooms." Why would we want to linger around after a massage? She tells us, "That's good. We are closing anyways." So I guess we made the right choice?

I went to the counter to pay and give them a tip. Listen, I don't know about these tips and I didn't know how much the massage cost. I took $20 out of the ATM beforehand for a tip. I thought that would be okay. I guess it wasn't. The cashier said, "So this is the tip? Just $10 a piece." Sahar's masseuses, I'm sorry. I didn't know. That wasn't meant to say you did a bad job. I wasn't trying to be cheap. Sorry about that huge awkward bomb we dropped on your establishment, but that snobby cashier needs to check himself. Don't worry, we won't put you guys through that again.

Scott and I learned something yesterday. We aren't really a couple's massage kind of couple and the only place we are comfortable getting massages is the East Village Spa. They don't make us feel like idiots. I think not being made to feel like an idiot is a huge part of feeling relaxed for me. 


Gary's third pottery blog said...

OK, for a minute, imagine the p0rn implications of the tub: that room, 2 tables, one couple....and....2 masseusses named Brittany and Tiffany, a lot of OIL, and at least 3 video cameras, a camera crew, director, and some unneccessary robes....well, I bet that is what the tub is for. THAT TYPE of couples massage, you know????
Girl, I know what you feckin' mean about the panic attack. I mean, I can get nervous before going to the public library, but a couples massage? HEART ATTACK CITY. I give you high marks for keeping your cool, handling things so well and leaving a GREAT tip, AND writing a superb post about it all :)

Maude said...

Wow, TACKY. The masseuses could have left it at "good." But to add "We're closing anyway" is just short of "don't let the door hit you in the ___ when you got out." WTF is right about so many aspects of that joint.

Well, the parents meant well. You got a good post and if Scott gets a worthwhile joke, maybe the $20 can be a tax deduction for educational expenses! Thanks for the cautionary tale, don't think we'll try this in any town. Not laughing at your expense but it is a funny story (funnier if you don't have to live through it).

miss.e.motional said...

Haahhaha, oh Kasey. Hilarious. You are my sister in awkwardness. It's one of the many many reasons I will never get a bikini wax. Tmi?? Sorry. But oh my God, that cashier needs to sit down! He's a cashier. I mean, sorry. I think it was a great tip too. Don't worry another second about it! Thanks for the funny story.

Gail said...

I wouldn't have tipped more than $10 per person either, and maybe that's because I'm just cheap. (Which is entirely true.)

Also many cashiers at salons/spas I have encountered seem to think they are more important and special than they really are.

Heather Reese said...

This is exactly why, when Arick says he's going to get me 'a day at the spa' or something, I BEG him not to. BEG and plead. I am NOT high maintanance, and I don't/can't pretend to be.

Reverend Awesome said...

Tell Arick to get you a certificate to the East Village Spa. They are normal people and don't try to make you feel weird. They don't put you through some weird ritual of robes, sitting in gaudy rooms and this and that. They're just nice and seem to actually want you to feel comfortable.

Thanks for all the understanding comments. I feel like an anxiety ridden freak and then I learn I'm not the only one and that takes the panic down a few notches. I appreciate it.

George and Maureen Johnson said...

Bwaaahahaha! What a great post. Loved it! I used to feel so awkward and such until I had a child. hahahaha! All these people with masks on staring at your crotch! hahaha! While you are butt naked, grunting, and slobbering in pain, hahahaha! Everyone saying, "Hang in there it will be over soon"! Your laying there saying to youself, I am getting an axe and killing my husband when I see him, oh and pitch that miserable kid out the window that caused me such pain....then after the pain, nudity, humiliation is over, smooching the husband, smooching the little angel baby, all is forgotten.
After that experience, not too much bothers you anymore. bwahahahaha! George wouldn't be in the room, he suffers severe anxiety attacks. He would of passed out anyway! hahahaha He was freaking out when I was just in labor...hahahaha!

Radiance Massage said...
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