In challenging financial times, I found solace in the weekly ritual of massage therapy. It provided not only physical relief but also emotional and spiritual rejuvenation. I cherished the experience of shedding my clothes and allowing a skilled practitioner to work on every part of my body. However, as life evolved—culminating in the sale of my house and increased responsibilities—my self-care routine began to diminish. What once was a weekly indulgence transformed into a monthly visit, and eventually, I was lucky to treat myself once every few months.
Despite this, I still held a strong desire to visit the spa. It often became a spontaneous decision, but each time I went, I left feeling grateful for the experience. Recently, while driving home, I stumbled upon a spa I had never seen before, conveniently located just ten minutes away from my home. Its cozy exterior caught my attention, prompting me to explore. I thought, why not? A few hours to spare could lead to a refreshing experience.
Upon entering, a jingle announced my arrival, and an unexpected figure emerged from behind the reception desk. She was a cheerful woman in her fifties, her Asian heritage evident in her features. With a welcoming smile, she took my coat and guided me down a dimly lit hallway lined with curtained rooms. At the end, she opened a curtain and ushered me inside.
“How much for a one-hour session?” I inquired.
“Sixty dollars,” she replied.
I handed her a hundred-dollar bill, believing that tipping upfront often leads to better service. She expressed her gratitude as I entered the room, instructed to undress and lie face down. The ambiance was tranquil, illuminated by candles, accompanied by soft, soothing music.
Once she left, I followed her instructions. By the time she returned, I was ready, lying comfortably on the table. The massage commenced in a familiar fashion, with her asking about my preference for pressure. As she worked on my back, I felt tension melt away. However, her approach quickly became more assertive, particularly in areas that were somewhat unexpected.
As she instructed me to turn over, her comfort with my nudity was apparent. I decided to embrace the moment and see where it led. As the clock ticked down, I recognized that this was a legitimate massage, and she was simply thorough in her technique. When the session ended, she finished with a series of gentle hand chops on my body.
“Would you like some water?” she asked as she prepared to exit. I nodded, expressing my appreciation for the massage. Just as I was getting dressed, she returned with a cup of water, standing a little too close for comfort. Suddenly, she leaned in, and my mind raced—was she going in for a kiss?
Caught off guard, I instinctively leaned in too, attempting to avoid an awkward situation. I aimed for a light peck, landing at the corner of her mouth, which I thought would suffice. However, I soon realized her intentions were entirely innocent; she was merely trying to help me adjust my shirt collar.
Embarrassed, I quickly exited the room, darting past the curtain and out the door. I haven’t returned since.
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In summary, my recent experience at the spa was unexpected and left me with mixed feelings. While I appreciated the massage itself, the awkward encounter at the end was something I hadn’t anticipated. It serves as a reminder that even in moments of relaxation, surprises can arise.