By Lara
I left my mother's house early last night in order to get home to write this article. I collided with a deer about half a mile from her house. Apparently, I need to do a more thorough search of my co-workers cubicles in order to find the voodoo doll that I'm sure one of them is harboring in my image.
I'm physically fine. My jeep was drivable. I called the sheriff's office. They told me to go home. I did. They called me back regarding the license plate I had left in the road. Sigh. Now that I have filed a claim with my insurance, taken the jeep to the body shop, and gotten a rental car, I just have to work through my moderate animal-lover's guilt and rental car paranoia.
Now. Down to business. The next item on the Year of the Birthday list was "Get a Massage." I had a massage once before. My friend Jill had suggested that we do a spa day. She planned it. Included in the spa day package was: a massage, a facial, lunch, a manicure, a pedicure, and hair styling.
I enjoyed my very first massage. I also enjoyed lunch in a terrycloth robe. However, the rest of the experiences were not necessarily enjoyable. Especially the pedicure. You should probably know that my feet are extremely ticklish. Extremely. Ticklish. I can tickle my own feet. It's that bad. The pedicure felt much more like tickle torture than being pampered. Still. I made note that I enjoyed the massage. Beth had never had one. It seemed like a viable option for the Year of the Birthday.
It was my job to book the YOB massage. I called around for some reasonably priced spas. I found one. Glenda's Day Spa in Bel Air. I left a message for Glenda inquiring about booking a two massages. When Glenda called me back, I explained that my friend and I both wanted to get massages at the same time. I specifically remember mentioning that we didn't want the couple's massage. We just wanted to schedule massages for the same time slot.
On the day of massage, we got to Glenda's early. An hour early. That was my fault. I forgot what time our appointment was. Beth and I sat very quietly in the very quiet waiting room with the other very quiet waiters listening to the very quiet music and water fountain. I had to suppress several urges to giggle uncontrollably. It's my body's natural defense against quiet. When the other waiters finally left, Beth tried to cross the room to sit in the chair next to me. Her foot caught in the carpet and she tripped spectacularly. Giggle in the first.
We got signed in and they took us to a room with two tables in it. We had, in fact, been scheduled for a couple's massage. Soon we were undressed under warm blankets and each lying on a massage table trying to suppress giggle in the second. It didn't work.
The massages themselves were lovely and relaxing. Except for every now and then when I would remember that Beth was in the same room trying not to laugh. Or Glenda would get close to touching my feet. Yes. My feet are so ticklish that the very thought of someone touching my feet makes me laugh.
I plan to get another massage one of these days, but please don't ask me to get a pedicure. It's not happening.