Since Lady M. occasionally gets a massage from a local place, she thought perhaps I'd like one as well. Thus, I got a gift card, and even the tip to leave her favorite masseuse, Catherine. Nice. I'll try it. I know all those professional athletes get some time on a table and get a rub down, so why not, I'll try it. I used to be athletic.
After waiting several weeks for the holidays to clear, I called and made an appointment at Feel Well, right near where I live, in very well-maintained corner house. The house could easily house medical offices, and in a way, massages can be seen as therapeutic.
The receptionist led me into a waiting room that I immediately recognized as a great place for a wake to be held. Missing from the room were the corpse, and the mourners in those chairs, but there was soft pink torch lighting at one end of a credenza where a coffin could have be placed, and there were couches and settees along the walls. Easy funeral parlor. Where are the tissues?
On entering, I immediately told the receptionist that the room had all the makings of a funeral parlor; all they needed was the corpse. She laughed. Scattered through the room where fliers and promotional posters for their upcoming Valentine's Day specials.
It didn't take long for Catherine to collect me and take me into the room that was softly lit with a mural drawn on the wall of a forest scene. There might have been a candle here and there, but some kind of soft music was playing, the kind that has no tune to it and no melody. Nothing to hum to.
Catherine talked a bit about our common friend/customer, trying to get to know where to concentrate her efforts on me. Catherine asked if there were any special spots to work with.
Lady M. told me she'd ask this, so I explained there were so many that I figured I might run out of spray paint if I marked them that way. Better for me to tell her.
After naming and pointing to at least five areas of my still breathing corpus, Catherine politely asked me if I got there by ambulance. She patiently told me, "now I'm not Jesus." I replied I didn't think so, inasmuch as she had no beard. Catherine told me Lady M. told her about my sense of humor.
She also asked if I ever had a massage before. I said no. "After 42 years of marriage I've still not had a massage." She said she was happy to be the first one to give me one.
The room seemed to darken a bit and I got between the sheets on a softly padded tabled. I must say, the attention to my back and shoulders felt good. Catherine told me I had a lot of tight spots. No surprise there.
I repeated my funeral parlor observation and after laughing she said she didn't know if the place had actually been one before. There is however no parking. I told her I didn't know, but the houses next to the place were fairly new, so perhaps once upon a time the place did hold a hearse and a corpse. Maybe a few corpses.
Small talk ensued about nasty weather, snow. her husband, Vietnam vet, and other observations, none political, thank goodness.
When I had to turn and and lay on my stomach Catherine told be to put my head in the horse collar at the edge of the table. It does provide comfort and keeps your head steady, but it also made me think of a toilet seat and throwing up.
Of course I shared this, and then launched into the story of how my wife recently got a replacement toilet seat at Home Depot for $4.98.
"4.98? How did she do that?"
"Well, first you pick out the toilet seat for $29.98. In this case a white Kohler, "soft close" seat that doesn't require you to bend down to get the two parts closed. All you have to do is get either, or both of them off the perpendicular, give them a little push forward, and voila, they close down all by themselves. No batteries required."
"Nice. But how does the $4.98 come into play?"
"Well she gets to the register, and it must be slow, because the cashier asks her if she wants to open a change card and get $25 off the first purchase. My wife explains we already have a Home Depot card. The cashier tell her 'no problem, you can have up to 5 credit cards.' My wife of course tells him to sign her up."
"I didn't know you can have so many credit cards from the same vendor."
Well, I guess Home Deport lets you, so next time you're there, if you've got the time and they're offering $25 bucks off with the first purchase, go for the brass ring."
"We will."
This is a typical conversation in the suburbs. What's at Home Depot.
I must say, I think I did relax, and listen to the music and stare off into the forest on the wall. Even though my glasses were off. I could still see the wall.
The 50 minute massage time expired, and I struggled to get up, since one of my spots is a very bad back. I have to leverage myself on and off beds.
Catherine was pleasant, and told me not to be a stranger. Come again. Well, that part is not going to happen, not because I didn't like the attention, but really because I don't need all that "relaxing" stimuli. Soft lighting and meditation music is not for me.
I least no one said "namaste."
http://www.onofframp.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment