My 'first' massage
"Book a massage" was never something you would have ever seen on any of my to-do lists. Although many swear by the wonders of having a stranger rub their hands all over you, it hasn't been something that ever appealed to me. In fact, the thought was so horrid that I had accepted and adapted to the random back spasms, tingling fingers, sharp arm pains, and knotted shoulders. However, after some recent negotiations at the gym with Shannon, my very persuasive trainer, I gave in and booked an appointment.
I couldn't pin point the exact reasons for my hesitation but as I walked into the massage therapist's office I was certain the experience would scar me for life. Laurie, the therapist, greeted me with a warm smile and seemed nice enough, yet I was still positive there was evil lurking behind her quiet and calm demeanor. After completing the standard questionnaire, pointing out my trouble spots, and unsuccessfully stalling with banter about it being my first massage, I had no choice but to strip off my clothes and lie vulnerable on the massage table. Things started out normal enough, a little oil, a little rubbing, nothing out of the ordinary and so I started to relax. Once the conversation turned to travel and environmentalism I was actually quite happily enjoying myself.
In the last moments, as I was lying on my back and almost falling asleep from the head rub, we started talking about East Indian culture and Ayurvedic message. And then suddenly a forgotten memory flashed through my mind and I realized this wasn't my first massage. It was so clear, the details of traveling in Sri Lanka and being taken to an Ayurvedic centre. Well, not really a centre, more like a hut where the treatment rooms were dark and damp. I remembered lying on a cold hard wooden table and some untrained local woman fiercely rubbed oil on me. It wasn't relaxing, it wasn't therapeutic, and it explained my deep rooted obstinance in booking this appointment. I revealed my sudden recollection to Laurie and we both had a good laugh. As I booked two more appointments I thanked her for a terrific session and for restoring my faith in massage therapy.
I couldn't pin point the exact reasons for my hesitation but as I walked into the massage therapist's office I was certain the experience would scar me for life. Laurie, the therapist, greeted me with a warm smile and seemed nice enough, yet I was still positive there was evil lurking behind her quiet and calm demeanor. After completing the standard questionnaire, pointing out my trouble spots, and unsuccessfully stalling with banter about it being my first massage, I had no choice but to strip off my clothes and lie vulnerable on the massage table. Things started out normal enough, a little oil, a little rubbing, nothing out of the ordinary and so I started to relax. Once the conversation turned to travel and environmentalism I was actually quite happily enjoying myself.
In the last moments, as I was lying on my back and almost falling asleep from the head rub, we started talking about East Indian culture and Ayurvedic message. And then suddenly a forgotten memory flashed through my mind and I realized this wasn't my first massage. It was so clear, the details of traveling in Sri Lanka and being taken to an Ayurvedic centre. Well, not really a centre, more like a hut where the treatment rooms were dark and damp. I remembered lying on a cold hard wooden table and some untrained local woman fiercely rubbed oil on me. It wasn't relaxing, it wasn't therapeutic, and it explained my deep rooted obstinance in booking this appointment. I revealed my sudden recollection to Laurie and we both had a good laugh. As I booked two more appointments I thanked her for a terrific session and for restoring my faith in massage therapy.
posted by sammy at 7:47 PM
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