Life can be a rollercoaster, and while my finances were on a tightrope, I found solace in my weekly massages. They weren’t just a luxury; they were a lifeline for my physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being. Who doesn’t love the feeling of being pampered and having every muscle tension kneaded away? But as life took its turns—selling the house, diving into the family court system, and transitioning my writing from a pastime to a rent-paying gig—my “me” time started to shrink. Movies became a rarity, and my weekly massages dwindled to a monthly treat, then to an occasional quarterly visit.
Despite the reductions, I still eagerly anticipated my spa visits. They had turned into spontaneous escapes, and I always left feeling rejuvenated.
One day, while driving home, I stumbled upon a spa I’d never seen before, just a short 10-minute drive from my place. It looked inviting and tranquil, so I thought, “Why not?” I made a quick U-turn, parked my car, and approached the entrance. A neon sign flickered overhead, which usually makes me a tad suspicious—who takes neon seriously for relaxation? But I was already there, so I figured, what’s the worst that could happen?
As I stepped inside, a cheery ding-dong chime announced my arrival. Suddenly, a woman popped up from behind the counter, looking like a life-sized jack-in-the-box. She was an Asian lady in her 50s with a beaming smile. Grabbing my coat and leading me down a dimly lit hallway, she opened a curtain to reveal my massage room.
“How much for an hour?” I asked.
“Sixty dollars,” she replied.
I handed her $100, tipping upfront because I believed it earned me better service. After thanking me, she instructed me to undress and lie face down on the massage table. The room was cloaked in darkness, illuminated by flickering candles and filled with soft, calming music.
Once she left, I followed her instructions and settled in. When she returned, I tried to catch a glimpse of my masseuse, but the lighting made it tough. I could tell she was female, a bit older than me, and Asian. The massage began like any other, starting on my upper back, and I felt my tension melt away.
However, she was quite liberal with her technique, spending extra time on my glutes and inner thighs. I won’t lie; it felt fantastic. Then came the moment of truth: she asked me to flip over, and her comfort level with my nakedness was, well, notable. I figured I’d just go with the flow.
As time slipped away, I realized this was a legitimate massage parlor, and nothing untoward would happen—she simply took her work seriously and gave me a thorough rubdown. When the timer buzzed, signaling the end of my session, she finished with some enthusiastic hand chops across my back.
“Would you like some water?” she inquired as she left the room. I nodded, grateful for the hydration. As I got dressed, she returned with a Styrofoam cup. I thanked her profusely, complimenting the massage, while she stood just a foot away, beaming at me.
And then, it happened.
Leaning in, she tilted her head, going in for what I thought was a kiss! My mind raced. What was happening? I didn’t want to be rude, but making out with my mature masseuse wasn’t on my agenda. With no time to think, I closed my eyes and leaned in awkwardly, aiming for a peck on the corner of her lips to keep things light.
But the moment my lips made contact, I felt her hands adjusting my collar behind my neck. Oh no! She wasn’t trying to kiss me; she was just helping me get dressed!
After my unexpected faux pas, she pulled back, her smile faltering. I panicked and bolted out of the room, darting through the curtain and sprinting for the exit. I jumped into my car, heart racing, and haven’t returned since.
Life is full of surprises, and this one? Well, it was certainly one for the books.
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Summary:
In this humorous recounting, Jamie shares an awkward yet enlightening experience at a massage parlor that took an unexpected turn. From the initial excitement of a spontaneous spa visit to a comically mistaken kiss, the narrative highlights the unpredictability of life and the importance of self-care.