My Underground Massage

Yesterday, while I was having my eyebrows waxed, I remarked how wonderfully comfortable the table was.

"You come back tomorrow" said the Thai waxer, "I give you massage. I got hot rocks for you".

Ooh, baby. I got hot rocks for you, too!

Everything's been hurting lately, especially since that one hour with a personal trainer on Tuesday. Hitler had me stepping on and off a weight bench, and my thighs just ain't been right since.

At my nail salon, there are no massage prices on the sign. I know they're not licensed. I know Jackie's reading this right now and furrowing her hairy brows into a disturbed "V". I could give a rat's ass. I just wanted a small Asian woman to beat the crap out of me, quadraplegia be dammed.

This morning I went to spinning class. This week's theme was "Disco Spinning". I span and sang to pass the time. "It's like thunder, lightening, the way you touch me is frightening...." I didn't care who heard me. I took a shower at the gym, and realized I forgot to pack another pair of underwear. I wasn't putting the same sweaty pair back on again, thank you, or showing up for a massage commando. My internal human GPS system rapidly calculated that the mall was on the way to my massage, and if I hustled (da da da da da da da da....), I could make it.

I ran into Macy's like my hair was on fire and picked out the biggest pair of black underpants I could find and ran to the register, underpants flailing behind me. The girl at the register asked if I had any coupons. No. Did I want to apply for a Macy's card- No. Did you find everything you were - Yes. Then she pulled out the tissue paper and slowly began to nest and caress Gigantipants in some crinkly paper. For fuck's sake. Just gimme my damn drawers, lady.

Then I realized I had no purse, and either had to figure out a way to put on some panties in the car while driving (no), or somehow, smuggle them in to the salon. I folded them up like origami and stuck them in my wallet. When I got there, I asked to use the ladies' room, and ta-frikkin'-da, I was underpanted.

Good thing.

I got into the room, and was told "You take off pants". 'Kay. "Shirt". Allrighty. "Bra, too". And she stood there and waited. Thaaaaat coulda been awkward. Clean underpants in case of an emergency, CHECK!

She beat the crap out of me, and I feel wonderful.

All in all, a perfectly delightful morning.