So yesterday I had a 50 minute massage, thanks to a gift card Matt gave me for Valentine’s day. I figured my week of relaxation was a good time to redeem it. I’ve actually only had one other massage in my life – a 30 minute Swedish massage in NYC. There was way too much of the chopping motion during the Swedish (I thought that was only in the movies), so I went with a deep tissue this time. All they had left in terms of appointments was a male and I figured they probably have stronger hands, so I went with it. These kinds of experiences are just so interesting to me! You’d think my mind would have been at ease during 50 minutes of relaxation, but my brain was filled with thoughts and questions:
- When’s the last time I shaved my legs? Last Saturday. Whoops
- You know you have huge calves when they fill up a man’s palm.
- Are you supposed to tell them when it hurts or encourage them to move on when you’ve had enough in one area?
- Is a quiet moan every once and a while ok?
- Is he doing something special to my muscle when he stops and just presses in one area? I’m not a fan.
- Why do those instrumental songs with wooden flutes always remind me of the West?
- I’m excited to go out West.
- What’s a couples massage like?
- I’m cold.
- Is he grossed out by my feet?
- How much time has passed?
- Is he going to massage my head?
- Is this oil seeping into my pores?
- I’m sad this is almost over.
- But I’m kind of ready to do something else.
- I think I’ll take an apple from the waiting room for the walk home.
What do you guys think about during a massage? Anyone have any funny stories?