Spa Magic
After four years of working for a spa marketing company and hearing nothing but spa talk, I decided it was time for me to have a spa experience. I was apprehensive. After all, Spas are for women, right?
I was far from the only man there. At least a third of the customers were men. I immediately felt relieved. OK, so I’m not the only guy here and everyone has been very welcoming so far, but what about the actual massage? My biggest fear was that some big hairy guy name Günter was going be my masseuse, so I requested a female.
I was handed a robe and some slippers and lead to the men’s changing room. I was a little self conscious about walking out and about in nothing but a robe, but everyone else was dressed that way and I soon forgot there was but one thin velour belt between my birthday suit and the rest of the world.
I sat in the “Relaxation Room” — a room with magazines, water and dried fruit — for a few minutes with other robe clad folks until Tiffany came in and asked for me to follow her. As we walked down the hall I began to notice how wonderful this place smelled. It wasn’t perfumed or incensed, but clean and refreshing with a slight hint of burning candle. The lights were dim and the candlelight made the shadows dance on the walls in rhythmic motion with the soft mood music that was playing just loud enough to tickle your ears.
As we walked into the treatment room I realized that I somehow had to get under a towel on the table. I guess it would have been fine to disrobe in front of a complete stranger, but I was happy to hear her say “I’ll be right outside while you get on the table and cover yourself.”
Then it began. Her hands were warm and created a symphony of movement. I was surprised at the multitude of variations in her technique. I didn’t say a word, I was almost afraid to move as it might break the magic. I was never in danger of falling asleep, but I was in an altered state of consciousness. I was floating. My thoughts were of happy times. Images of my wedding day, flashes of my honeymoon and the memories of the time I had the lead role in a college play meandered through my mind. I never entertained one inappropriate thought. That surprised me more than I’d like to admit.
Then it was over. After getting dressed I met up with my companions in the Relaxation Room. They were still in their robes, sipping lemon water. Sitting next to them I realized I felt uncomfortable fully dressed.
I was far from the only man there. At least a third of the customers were men. I immediately felt relieved. OK, so I’m not the only guy here and everyone has been very welcoming so far, but what about the actual massage? My biggest fear was that some big hairy guy name Günter was going be my masseuse, so I requested a female.
I was handed a robe and some slippers and lead to the men’s changing room. I was a little self conscious about walking out and about in nothing but a robe, but everyone else was dressed that way and I soon forgot there was but one thin velour belt between my birthday suit and the rest of the world.
I sat in the “Relaxation Room” — a room with magazines, water and dried fruit — for a few minutes with other robe clad folks until Tiffany came in and asked for me to follow her. As we walked down the hall I began to notice how wonderful this place smelled. It wasn’t perfumed or incensed, but clean and refreshing with a slight hint of burning candle. The lights were dim and the candlelight made the shadows dance on the walls in rhythmic motion with the soft mood music that was playing just loud enough to tickle your ears.
As we walked into the treatment room I realized that I somehow had to get under a towel on the table. I guess it would have been fine to disrobe in front of a complete stranger, but I was happy to hear her say “I’ll be right outside while you get on the table and cover yourself.”
Then it began. Her hands were warm and created a symphony of movement. I was surprised at the multitude of variations in her technique. I didn’t say a word, I was almost afraid to move as it might break the magic. I was never in danger of falling asleep, but I was in an altered state of consciousness. I was floating. My thoughts were of happy times. Images of my wedding day, flashes of my honeymoon and the memories of the time I had the lead role in a college play meandered through my mind. I never entertained one inappropriate thought. That surprised me more than I’d like to admit.
Then it was over. After getting dressed I met up with my companions in the Relaxation Room. They were still in their robes, sipping lemon water. Sitting next to them I realized I felt uncomfortable fully dressed.
posted by Reality Check at 2:40 PM
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