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The Massage

Posted by evankessler on November 13, 2008

massageOver the past few days I’ve fallen victim to increased tightness in my upper back and neck areas. Turning my head to look to the left has sent a dose of mild agony shooting into my neck and left shoulder areas for the majority of the past forty-eight hours. To alleviate the pain I booked an appointment with my gym’s masseuse knowing full well I would not have to pay for the treatment as one free massage was included with my membership.

Not quite sure what to expect though quite sure there would be no happy ending, I took to the street today at 1:40pm and simply crossed it to wind up at my local health club just in time for my date with a relaxing destiny.  My masseuse was running a tad bit late, but arrived within five minutes of the start of my waiting period.  She was the tall athletic type, sort of a mix between a volleyball player and a swimmer.  Not wholly attractive, but not unattractive in the least.  She certainly looked like she would have strong hands though.

I nervously followed her into her lair of that smelled of soothing oils.  Once we entered I felt a slight sense of shame like a virgin going to see a prostitute as I asked, “what do I take off?”.  I had never actually received a professional massage before so my sense of the appropriate was non-existent.  My last massage had been at the hands of my hairstylist who would do some kneading and chopping prior to sending me on my way in an effort ot gouge some additional tip from my wallet and before that I remember the innocent, yet slightly homo-erotic pre pubescant massages that my summer camp bunkmates and  I used to take turns administering.to each other.  Remembering the latter there was a great sense of relief in never having taken part in the boner contests or having worn all white outfits to the camp dance.

All of the fond and not so fond massage memories aside, it was time to get down to business.  I was told to take off as much as I wanted and get under the sheet.  I found this peculiar seeing as I thought in order to have my back worked on it shouldn’t be through a sheet.  I wondered if my masseuse was modern orthodox jew or something.  That being said, since I was planning on having my back and neck worked on  the removal of my shirt was appropriate, but the rest was not.

The masseuse left as i readied myself and positioned myself under the covers with my face down on that face holder type thing.  Two minutes later the massage therapist returned and immediately turned on some soothing yet partially funky and upbeat new age music, instructing me that if I need to take a second at any point to let her know.

She began to rub my back over the sheets and loosen me up as much as she could through them.  Soon enough though the covers were peeled back and my muscles felt as though they were being measured for tightness through a gentle kneading.  After one round  a second song came on.  It sounded like the soundtrack to a scene in which you were emerging from the darkness of the shadow of a planet eclipsing the sun, only to see it’s warm glow reflecting off the rings of  Saturn….or at least that’s what I thought of.

What New Age Music Makes Me Think Of

What New Age Music Makes Me Think Of

That visual only lasted so long as the music got increasingly “funkier” and with that the oil was being evenly distributed along my back and neck and the rubbing became increasingly harder and deeper exposing the tightness of my shoulder and neck.  It seemed as though she was trying to break through the barrier they were putting up and with each progressive push they fought against her elbows, forearms and strong hands until they could fight no more. My muscles felt relaxed and incredibly less achy and breaky than before.

This whole process seemed to last an eternity, due to the muscular struggle.  For all I knew, with the uniformity of the music we could have only listened to two four-minute new age songs by the time it was all over.  However, it had been much longer than that.  As my masseur let up, she told me we were done and that I could take my time getting up.  I looked at the CD player which read “Song 7”.  I had no idea how long it had been, but I assumed probably 30 minutes, give or take.  I laid around for about a minute before popping up from the table, getting dressed and heading out.  Sweet relief.  This is what it feels like to be relaxed.  If I ever become rich, I’m hiring a full time masseuse to be on my staff.

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