My girlfriend has booked me a massage for my birthday to, "help
me to relax". The trouble is the thought of a massage is stressing
me out. I really don't need to be kneaded.
I know that going to a spa is meant to be a relaxing experience,
but for me it's more accurately described as an angst-ridden
cringe-fest. All that touching, and the pressure to relax. I also
dread getting a female masseuse. What if they discover I'm a
lesbian? They might think I came along for an expensive
grope.
I'm so tense right now I could be an extra in Silent Witness.
"Just relax," says the female masseuse. It's easy for her to say.
She's not the one with a sheet of thin tracing paper covering
what's left of her modesty. I'm not a size 8, so I think most of my
modesty has already bolted.
In an effort to relax me she puts on, 'Now That's What I Call Spa
Music 37". God not the whale music! If whales were subjected to
Olly Murs every they got a massage Greenpeace would be launching
Rainbow Warrior, but for some reason it's considered an acceptable
level of cruelty for humans.
"How are you feeling?" That's women for you. It's not enough that
she's seen me naked. Now she wants to know how I'm feeling. I'm no
good at talking about feelings at the best of times. But talking
about feelings to the crotch of a woman I don't know, with my face
crammed into a white padded bum-hole, is a fresh hell. "Fine" I say
limply.
"So, have you got any plans for tonight?" Thankfully she's decided
to engage me in some chat, but before I can edit myself I say, "I'm
going to a lecture on Sloths." She stops touching me. The room goes
silent, even the whales have stopped groaning. "That's er
int-eresting," she says. Oh God now she thinks I'm a total geek. A
geek in a paper G String.
I can't believe my girlfriend finds THIS relaxing. To recap: I'm
in paper pants, being touched by a woman I don't know, to the
soundtrack of mating Whales, and making small talk about
sloths.
The absurdity of the situation hits me and I get the giggles. The
sort of uncontrollable giggles you only get in serious situations
when you know you really shouldn't laugh. Before I can apologise
she's seen the funny side and begins to laugh too. My tension
instantly dissolves, and for the first time I relax and enjoy
myself. At last, a massage with a happy ending.
