Yesterday I was looking forward to a much needed massage, after two days of writing, hunched over the keyboards and too much sitting. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening! Instead of being a relaxing, wonderful massage, it was more like a torture session and I had to wonder if the guy was taking his frustrations out on me! Gone were the thoughts of peaceful relaxing music accompanied by some luxurious smelling oils to delight my senses. Instead, I got to hear stories of his problems finding a house, funny anecdotes of women customers who don’t know better than to get naked on top of the sheets, and ladies who think he is their private sexual therapist (when he is the furthest thing from that).
Unfortunately, my knots had knots and really needed the deep tissue massage I recieved, and he is very good at what he does. That will teach me to go more often, drink more fluids (other than wine) and improve my posture. Thing is, he really is a nice guy and even checked in on me today to make sure he didn’t hurt me too bad. Not many therapists I know do that. I assured him I was sore but fine and will reschedule soon. But not too soon. 😉