Those words were uttered during massage-fest 2010.
And sadly, they were not directed at me.
No, instead I, the one with the blog where I vent every weird/creepy/hysterical happenstance that occurs in my mixed up life, had a completely normal and quiet massage while Kelsey got a sex-crazed lesbian to rub her down.
Why, world? WHY?!
Why didn't I get the crazy lesbian?!
You may think I should be jealous and/or insulted...but that's not really how I work. I only wish the inappropriateness that occurred behind those closed doors happened to me.
Why did I get the sweet old lady that held my hand when I told her it was my first ever massage?
Why did I get the sweet old lady that was polite and didn't once touch my butt?
Why did I get the sweet old lady that liked men?! WHY?!?!?!?!?!
As Fraulein Maria would say, "lets start at the very beginning..."
Kelsey, being adorably sweet, decided to book a massage for the both of us to celebrate my trimester ending at school. This is quite possibly the greatest surprise ever.
Me, half naked, being rubbed down? SIGN ME UP. It's quite shocking I had never thought of this sooner.
Anyway, I was excited to say the least... the very least.
Once we arrived at the spa, I took out my camera and treated it as though I was an out-of-towner seeing Times Square for the first time. It was both obnoxious and embarrassing, but I honestly didn't care.
Here's the entrance:
Once inside, we made our way to the locker room, which looked a little something like this:
As you can see, there was a lovely robe waiting to swaddle my body... but I wasn't sure of the procedure. Do I get naked now? Or wait? What if it's a known fact that you stay remotely dressed until you get upstairs... and then strip down? What if I get naked, and then they ask me bend over, assuming I have underwear on, and my boobs come flying out, hitting the masseuse and innocent bystanders in the face?!
I couldn't risk it, so I sat and waited for Kelsey to tell me what to do.
After being told I could wear (or not wear) whatever I was comfortable with, I went and changed. When I returned to the locker room, I found first-hand that women wear nothing under their robes. Usually, I wouldn’t mind such a predicament, but Jesus Christ, keep your shit covered when you look like an unattractive version of the DA from Law & Order:
She also tried to have a full conversation with me about how amazing she felt being "all oiled up," to which I uncharacteristically had nothing to say.
You know when people are in so much pain that they just black out? I think that’s what happened here... because I remember nothing after "oiled up," "slick," and "amazing."
...and that was the also the end of any inappropriateness I encountered (dammit).
Kelsey and I then met our masseurs and went to separate rooms. While my massage was amazing and relaxing, Kelsey’s was amazing for an entirely different reason. Her masseuse immediately asked Kelsey if we were a couple…which in and of it self is a bit weird.
Once they were in the room of tenderness, as I like to call it, she then proceeded to hit on Kelsey throughout the hour-long massage.
I would give my kidney to have been sitting in the corner observing.
It evidently went a little something like this:
She asked Kelsey about a million times if she was "tight," and told her that life is all about mind, body, and soul.
Yeah, I bet you want to know if her "body" is tight, you masseuse whore.
She also repeatedly said that she wanted Kelsey to come back and that she should do a 90 minute massage instead of a 60 minute massage.
Just a side note – she wants Kelsey to go from 60 to 90 minutes. ...what are the beginning numbers in that scenario? 6 and 9. 69. Coincidence? I think not.
While rubbing down Kelsey’s forearms, she kept asking why they were so tight... but in a creepy "I mean something more than that" kind of way. I don't understand the innuendo here, but evidently Kelsey has tight forearms because she wants to sleep with her masseuse.
She also asked if Kelsey worked out because she has nice arms. I love my girlfriend, but as she put it, "the most exercise I do is getting off the couch when the pizza delivery guy knocks on our door."
...perhaps my favorite part of the entire evening occurred when it came time for Kelsey's fingers to be massaged ...this just begs for inappropriateness and I almost love the masseuse for not letting it slip by.
Almost.
Here’s what transpired:
"You're fingers are tight, and are just begging for more! They're just sucking it right up!" *INSERT SLURPING NOISE*. "They're saying don't stop! Don't stop!"
...It's so wrong, that it's right.
One last highlight, and I'm going to let Kelsey tell it in her own words:
So, in the middle of everything she seemed to always come back to my butt. And not just touching it, but rocking my whole body as if she was just standing there watching it jiggle back and forth. While it felt really really good, it was a little weird.
She definitely made it a priority to massage and jiggle it...
As if all of that wasn't enough, she made the ultimate comment at the end which nicely sums up the evening, "You should really come back for that 90 minute massage, its just such a HAPPY ENDING and you really REACH YOUR CLIMAX in that last half hour."
...I'm totally getting another (90 minute) massage.
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