A couple of years back, a friend of mine said that he was going in for a manicure/pedicure. I chuckled because, well, that shit ain't for me. I just couldn't see myself having it done. First off, my hands look like 20 miles of bad road. Unless you are going to repave them, they aren't worth messing with. And pedicure? If my hands are jacked up, you ought to see my feet! If cave men had hooves...and the hooves had wooden shingles on them.... and they smelled like burned cat hair and garbage truck water, that would be my feet. I thought about lopping them off and stumbling around on the stumps but my foot model days are long behind me. I'm not subjecting anyone to that mess!
A couple of weeks later, the same friend told me that he was getting into yoga. Again, I chuckled. I'm so damned out of shape and stiff that I would pull a hamstring just thinking about stretching. My worst fear would naturally be, getting into the group, getting my stretch on and then let go with a monster truck fart. I can't embarrass myself that bad at this age...
A couple of weeks after that, the same guy told me that he was going to get a massage. I said, "What in the world is going on with you? Mani-pedi, yoga, and now massages?" I thought my buddy either had too much money or too much time on his hands. He made a very simples statement that I didn't understand. "It's an investment in myself." Silly me... that's what I thought beer was for.
Fast forward to this Father's Day. I'm not big on "gift getting". My wife and kids know this. Anything I want or need, I just go get it. And if my kids know that if they ever get me a fucking tie, I will come back in the after life and teach their kids all kinds of shit that will drive them crazy!
Anyhow, this Father's Day... the wife and kids got me a massage. She knew I needed this. My back, neck and shoulders are tighter than a bulls ass sewed shut with a logging chain! Me being me, I try to talk her and me out of this.
"Why did you go and do that? I ain't taking my clothes off in front of another woman and embarrassing her too. My back has patchy ass hair all over it. I look like a bigfoot who got dragged behind the Fed Ex truck, for Christ's sake."
Her retort..."You don't take your clothes off in front of her. You take them off, cover up with a sheet and then lie down on a table.... and you're right about your back. I should take you to get that waxed!"
I said, "Well buddy, that shit ain't happening neither, but back to this massage bullshit. I don't want some shaman healer chanting, casting spells and hitting me in the ass with a dead chicken!"
She replies, "Nobody does that. Where do you come up with this garbage? You're going to love it and you really need it. You're stressed from work. Your neck has been bothering you for months. It's good for you. Some people actually cry from it... its a huge release for some people."
I say, "That's another thing. I heard some guys get an erection during massages and I have had all of the "Happy Endings" I ever needed. And I'll be damned if I am going to go into this Voo-Doo High Preistesses office and have a good cry. I do that shit in the garage when I am having a beer and trying to build something. I don't need this kind of shit on my resume!"
As is with most of our arguments, I was wrong. She booked that thing and already paid for it. "Look man,'' she says. "You've had a hell of a year with injuries and other crap. First you toppled over and broke my toilet with your head and gave yourself a Grade 3 concussion. That fired up your old back and neck injuries and you had to go get an injection in your back. That costed way more than this massage ever will. Then you go get your wisdom teeth out. You had one problem after another with that for 7 weeks! You've felt like shit and this is going to make you feel better, so your ass is going!"
My beloved wife rarely gives me directives. After nearly 30 years of marriage, I know that when she does, she means business and I am going to be taking my big happy ass to the witch doctor and getting my ass smudged whether I think I need to or not.
So there I am... Turns out, I know the massage therapist. I have known her for 25 or so years. She's good too. The whole town voted "Best in the Valley" for damned near as long as she's been in business! She orders me to "get ready" which means strip down, after she steps out. Reluctantly, I do this and am brutally reminded that I wore my double dutch, stinky ass work boots to this massage.... no frigging way does she not smell this.
Anyhow, she comes in and turns on some music that I would never be caught dead listening to. I guess that adds to the experience. She starts in on the old neck with some warm ass oil, and it is.... uhm, FUCKING AWESOME! Turns out, Trixie is not a Voodoo Priestess or a Witch Doctor... she is a god damned THERAPIST and will now be known as MY MASSAGE THERAPIST! She finds about 200 knots and kinks in my neck and tells me how its probably related to the shoulders and vice versa. She moves to the middle of my back and gets to cranking on it. She finds more knots and lumps in there and stops to get my arms. She cut loose on my arms and shoulders, y'all. I was making noises that must have been a little frightening to her. She kept asking, "Are you all right?" I said, "Don't mind me. Act like a regular human is here and just keep going!"
She moves from the arms to the small of my back. She hit a spot that I didn't know if I was going to fart or faint, but it felt sooooo good! I think I growled and maybe peed a little. She goes back up and works more on the neck, then the shoulders and then said, "Take your time getting up. Take a few deep breaths, this affects everyone a little differently. Take your time and let me know when you're decent.
Me being decent is going to take a lot more time on that table. I've got to tell you, I don't know what that cost, but its happening again. If you've never had a massage, do it! Do it tomorrow. Shit, today if you can get in. If you want MY MASSAGE THERAPISTS name and number, I can get that to you.
To my friend Mike... I'll leave your last name out of this since I didn't have your permission to use your name or likeness in this story, you sir were right! I get it. This was an investment in myself, but I still ain't getting a mani-pedi and you'll never see me in a yogurt hut or whatever those things are called, but I am all in on the massages!
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