You know how in the show 'Revenge' the series started with the last scene? That's what I'll be doing in this blog post.
Me: I'm 79% sure I was just taken advantage of.
Now, unto my Friday afternoon of horror. Earlier in the week I decided I wanted (neigh...needed) a massage. Luckily I had a gift certificate for a 60 minute swedish massage. Now, it wasn't to my preferred salon but I felt the need to be cheap and the use of the gift certificate outweighed going with that I knew. This was a bad decision.
I arrived Friday to the salon (name being withheld...for now) early and waited for the two receptionists to quit chatting so I could check in. Once they completed their important conversation on Receptionist A's cleavage (seriously), A brought me around, told me where to change, and asked me to wait for Beth (name not being withheld). I did as I was told and soon Beth arrived in all her glory.
Beth would have been a nice enough woman if she hadn't been barefoot, with holey, stained sweatpants, and a shirt three to four times too big. I immediately shook this off thinking a) she likes to be comfortable or b) her house burned down and this is all she had. I secretly hoped for b.
Beth asked me where I hold my tension. I told her my shoulders and neck. She asked me how much pressure I like. I said 'medium' to be safe. (Beth looked like she could hurt me).
Beth starts the massage focusing on my right leg. This strikes me as a bit odd since I told her my tension was in my shoulders but I figured she had her own method.
I was sadly correct in my thinking.
15 minutes into my 60 minute massage, Beth is still on my right leg. And my butt. I'm starting to mildly panic, feeling my nose start to sweat in fear. Beth continues to tell me to breathe (by making the pregnant woman breathing noise He...He.. Hooooo) and continuingly tells me I can "take pressure" and "this should be fun."
She then stops, puts her Bath and Body Works lotion down ( I kid you not; I can pick out Moonlight Path anywhere) and tells me she thinks I can handle a 'Shih Tzu' massage.
Now, and only now, do I realize she said 'Shiatsu' massage but my brain was scrambled trying to figure out exit strategies before things got weird.
Things got weird.
First, the rainforest music pumping through the speaker system abruptly stopped and Beth immediately leaped into action by bringing out her boombox and putting in a music selection of her choice. It can only be described as a mix between Enya and Sade. I started panicking more.
Then... it happened.
Beth mounted me.
I'm talking got on the table, put all fours on me, and shimmied her way up and down. And when I say 'shimmied' I more mean beat me with her four limbs. I started hyperventilating into the face hole and looking around to see if there was any way I could reach my Blackberry. There was not.
This continued for the last 20 minutes.
Longest 20 minutes of my life.
By the grace of something, Beth left the room and I was free to curl up into the fetal position to try and wrap my head around what happened (and to make sure I could move).
And then, on the wall, I saw this:
:sigh: Really? I had to get out of there. I threw on my clothes, and went out to Beth who acted like I just had the most relaxing experience of my life and said I should come back in two weeks for the 'Muscle Mend' package. I was so traumatized I think I just nodded, took her card, and practically ran out front to avoid making eye contact with her.
I practically threw my gift certificate and tip (yes, I tip even when I feel I've been taken advantage of. I'm not a monster) and ran out dialing Guy as fast as I could.
I'd like to end this horror story with a letter.
Dear Ben at Urban Nirvana,
Hey, it's me, Morgan. What has it been- three, four months since I last came in? I've always sang your praises as the best massage therapist in Charleston but that now means so much more. I'll never go anywhere else. So please don't ever leave. You're my safeplace.
I spent my weeking recovering from both the physical & emotional pain of Friday.
If anyone touches me I may go apeshit.
Thanks for making it to the end of this... I needed to get it out. If I had a therapist, I bet she'd be proud. I'd also like to say I'm proud because I typed my longest post on a computer without a space bar. THAT, my friends, is talent.