Massage Mayhem

Just mentioning the word “massage table” might give you the idea that I am filthy rich and eating my weight in bonbons. When I’m not on the massage table.  And you would be wrong. You would also be wrong if you thought I was at one of those *wink wink* massage places. Just so you know.

I “accidentally” signed up for a monthly massage (reduced rate) at a massage therapy spot nearby. I say “accidentally” because I don’t want to be rude. And the first visit was great. They charge me for a monthly massage, whether I’m dead or alive. I thought I could cancel easily … but the fine print says I must send a handwritten letter in a bottle on the second day after a blue moon. Aggghhhhhhh! I thought it would be a good idea to cash in on my monthly “purchase”; am residing in Stressville and, to quote my dad, currently, “If I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.” I thought a massage would help. I am an idiot. A polite idiot, but idiot nonetheless.

“Jacey” took me to my room where I disrobed and jumped under the covers. He returned, asked me what type of massage therapy I wanted, and I was VERY CLEAR that it would be shoulders, neck, and arms ONLY.  And I began to relax as he removed my shoulders from my ears. Ten minutes in, I was r-e-l-a-x-i-n-g.

The next thing I know, “Jacey” moved to my feet. And the conversation in my head went this way for the next 50 minutes:

“I HATE feet. What is he doing? Feet are ugly. Useful. But ugly. How can he confuse feet with shoulders?”

Oh, God. He has a foot fetish. What is he doing? This is weird. Get away from my feet or I will kill you.”

Then he wrapped my feet in hot towels and told me to flip over. I thought maybe now that I was face up, he’d snap out of it. My mistake. He put an eye pillow over my peepers, then proceeded to drape the covers so that my right foot, leg and almost my “privacy” was exposed.

“Excuse me, freak, but that is not a shoulder. What is he doing? Get away from my privacy. I’m supposed to relax. This sucks!”

He returned to foot fetish land, working that right foot for all it’s worth; then regrouping and groping the left one.

“What is the freaking deal with my feet? I am NOT relaxed, I am in a misery. And am too chicken to yell at you, you perv!”

Finally, he covered my feet. Then he came to the head of the table and ruffled my hair, as you would a little boy or a dog. WTH? And then he left.

“God is good. He’s gone. I am free!”

It was the second weirdest, worst massage ever. Second only to the one where the massage therapist had a hang nail and when she was finished, my back looked like a barber pole.

I need to grow some. When my life luck changes. Hopefully sooner than …



28 thoughts on “Massage Mayhem

  1. A self-confessed Idiot huh? Welcome to the club! Was Jacey this guys real name? If yes, that should have sent you running for the door! You need some big hairy dude with a Gold Tooth named “Wally” to give your feet the once over! 🙂

  2. Sorry your experience was so bad. I don’t like massages (I know, I’m a freak). Years ago, someone I was dating wanted to go to a nearby resort and get massages. I chose to get foot reflexology, simply because it seemed like the most innocuous thing I could do. It was amazing. For hours after the massage ended, I was in a state of zen.

  3. Yikes, I would’ve bolted, clothes or no clothes. Nobody — and I mean, NOBODY — touches my feet! We all got quirks, and that’s one of mine. Thanks for the warning.

  4. OMG, I would have died! The one and only time I ever had a massage was in the Philippines. I had been working on a doco and the cameraman said come and lets get a massage. While he got this stunning Filipino woman I got this gorgeous looking guy. How bad could it be? Not only did he have a voice like Steve Urkel he was a born-again. The dude tried to convert me while I was trapped. By the end, my body was one big friggin knot. The next day I could hardly move.

  5. Thanks for my morning giggle, Izzie…

    There are people who swear by massages…I am not one of them. If somebody’s going to massage me, I’d better be sleeping with them! I also have issues with anyone other than Jim or my hairdresser touching my hair…

    Hope things get better soon!


  6. I wasn’t sure that this was your blog at first. New layout!

    I hate people touching my feet. Hate it.

  7. Oh, lord this is too funny! I know exactly how you feel. I hate having my feet touched. I will suffer through one pedicure at the beginning of the summer so they can scrape and buff everything up all nice, but that is it.
    Thing is, I probably would have been too chicken to ask him to stop also. Why is that? Raised to be too darn polite, I guess.
    Like how you’ve redecorated!

    • Hey Amy! I have pedicures all the time; had to as yoga instructor. But I don’t go to massage therapy for anything but my shoulders. Yes, we were raised to be too polite. Sheesh!

  8. I thought women liked to have their feet messaged. I guess a change in game plan is necessary. Hopefully you won’t get the Marquis de Sade for your next visit.

  9. Just so you know, I was totally jealous while reading this whole post! My body aches for a massage feet and all! 🙂

  10. That sounds really weird. Sounds like you’d have better luck at one of those massage kiosks at the mall.

  11. Hi izzie. Nice new layout. Sorry to hear about the massage experience. You are too nice not to have said something.

  12. LOL, I am with you, Izie … DON’T TOUCH THE FEET!

  13. Sorry about the typo with your name 😦

  14. I have the world’s ugliest feet. I’m serious. They once took 2nd and 3rd in an ugly foot contest. Voted ugliest by Ugly Foot Magazine. little pudgy wide numbers with short toes and toenails that don’t grow. But I’m yearning so bad for relaxation I would LOVE for someone to rub my feet. I’ve only ever had a foot rub once and that was a friend. Was his name really Tracey? (ok-slight exaggeration in the beginning, but I wanted to see how long anyone would thing “I wonder if it was a one-legged person who took first place.”

  15. Oh! I don’t like to be touched by strangers. The idea of paying to have someone touch me ooogs me out to no end. I had the creepies just reading this.

  16. my auntie is a masseuse. i acccidently kicked her in the face when she touched my feet. i just cant stand it!!!

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