September 28, 2004

Massage

Last night I used a fabulous birthday present up by getting a massage after work. Because, frankly, I just don't have enough strange German woman touching my thighs. Truthfully though, I love massages, which is weird because I may be the single most ticklish person alive. There I am in the darkened room with the new-agey music and the smell of coconut milk permeating my senses and I'm trying not to flinch and jump off the table every time she touches me.
I have come to the conclusion that there is not a single part of my body that doesn't react when tickled. I have a friend, she knows who she is, who can turn her ticklish reaction on or off like a switch. I loathe that about her. It's just not fair! I'm trying to be all calm and Zen and my masseuse goes near my elbows and I tense up.
Maybe next time I go, I'll ask to be sedated.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

On my honeymoon, my wife went for a day spa treatment. Not wanting to be left out of that individual care, I signed-up for a massage. I was presented with a LARGE jamaican woman (at LEAST twice my bosy weight, which is saying something because I'm 6'2"). The music was new-agey, and the smell was coconut butter. It was the first time I ever wen't in for a massage (real men don't get massages, in my family). I think I still love that big, black woman.

-Houser

7:54 AM  

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