2006-10-28 @ 10:43 p.m.
What joy. I went and got my free massage today. Its always weird to walk into a place with a stranger and get naked. I'm not a man after all. It doesn't come naturally to me. I had gotten the directions from the woman last week. And what directions they were. Route 173, turn left at this road, veer right at that road, drive 300 feet, then you'll see a tree with 300 leaves, drive past that, then you'll see a restaurant with a green sign and a Mobil station on the left. Go another 100 feet. Then you'll see a house with a windchime. Drive 5 miles past that. Stop at the eleventy hundredth stop sign. Then there will be a man standing there with a ray of sun hitting his left shoulder.
I was a total wreck driving there, because I had written all these elaborate directions down in my planner and I had to keep referring to them. The only problem was, the weather was really bad. Rain. Really dense fog. Lots of leaves clogging drains so large ponds of water were washing up over the curbs. I had given myself 45 minutes for a 30 minute drive and I just barely made it.
I don't know why, but it seems like every massage therapist I've gone to since the departure of Married Guy has been a fifty something hippy chicks with bare feet. What is it about massage therapy that attracts that type. Not that there's anything wrong with that, since, well, I'm almost that type. But I can remember Married Guy kind of snickering about all the talk of chakras and channeling energies when he was in massage school. He had taken it all with a grain of salt and I was never forced to listen to the chakra speech before any of my massages. I would just tell him where it hurt and warn him that if he played Anya, I'd get violent.
But the woman today was ALL about the chakra thing. I mean, all about it. Chakras...penetrating channels....yin, the conception vessel....the yang bridge.... I really thought I was going on a trip to China or something. But I'm respectful of their point of view. Why? Because I figure in about 5 minutes, I'm going to be naked in front of them and they're going to be burrowing their fingers into my muscles, and I don't want to piss them off by acting bored. So I just nod my head and go "Oh really?" and "Yes, I think my chakras are clogged, since I'm really sore." I then had to pick a little card out of box. It would be my word of the day. It was called an angel card. I had hoped it would say, "You'll win the lottery today, grasshopper", but it only said, "Compassion". You want compassion? I've been listening to the chakra speech for 15 minutes now and I'm in a lot of pain and haven't gone postal yet. I'd say that was pretty compassionate. And I kid. I'm compassionate. Way more than you think.
Anyways, she had more rules and regulations than any masseuse I've ever been to. No jewelry at all. No talking unless she hurt me. And then she told me she'd keep telling me to relax if I wasn't, which I think was kinda counterproductive. I mean can you imagine somebody saying, "Now relax your butt" even though they're pressing directly on your sciatic nerve and you're screaming louder than Anna Nicole Smith having sex. But I agreed, of course, because of that previously mentioned thingie. Don't want any bad karma from a bare foot fifty year old.
So finally about 20 minutes after I got there she finally left and I was able to get undressed and get on the table. I was so in pain. And tired. I haven't been sleeping much lately. Well, I have, but it hasn't been a restful sleep. Like just this morning I had had a weird dream about drinking something out of a wine glass and a crow landing on it while I was drinking. Yeah! Right on the glass while I was drinking. Isn't that weird? And I didn't even do anything in the dream other than go...gee, there's a crow on my wine glass. Guess my chakras were blocked.
She finally came back in and did all these elaborate hand gestures over the top of me. If she had started chanting or talking in tongues or something, I would have been scared. But she finally started the massage and as usual I was unable to relax. I was naked in a room with a stranger after all. And I'm not a guy. But I also have this weird thing where I forget to breathe. I mean, I don't truly forget to breathe, because obviously I'm here typing this, but Zenshrink used to constantly tell me to breathe when he was doing hypnosis. I guess I would just go silent and he'd get worried. Married Guy used to tell me to breathe too.
Ha! My secret parlor trick. Pretending like I'm not breathing. Heh!
But I guess she did a pretty good massage. My legs aren't hurting as much and my sciatic nerve is about 40% less painful tonight. And my chakra?? Woo! It so excited its writing a new Broadway show and wants to hire Twyla Tharp to choreograph it.
On the way home I stopped at my old job to pick up my final massive paycheck ($102! That sciatic nerve pain from the job was SOOO worth it). I also brought back the one company shirt I hadn't used and my name tag. When I went to hand it to the girl at customer service she said, "Don't you want to keep the shirt? You can keep it if you want." Me: "I don't work here anymore. Why would I want to keep a uniform?" Girl: "Its yours! You can keep it! Its free!" Me: "But why would I want to? Its a uniform?" Girl: "Its free!" Me: "But its a store uniform." Girl: (shrugging her shoulders). Me then handing her my name tag. Her: "Oh you can keep your name tag!" Me: "I probably don't need a name tag from ***" Girl: "But it has your name on it!" Me: "My name is pretty common. You can probably use it again." Girl: "But you can keep it. Its free!" "Me: "I don't need a name tag with a store name on it." Girl: "But its free!"
Oy! I finally just slid the stuff across the counter and thanked her. And to think, I worked in maintenance and this brainiac helps customers. All I can say is that human resource department really (cough)knew what they're doing.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty