Rub it out – Tales from the massage table

Six months ago:

“Dear journal (because diaries are for chicks), My wedding is rapidly approaching and I could not possibly be any more excited!  I will spend every day of the rest of my life with the most amazing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.  And the first week of the rest of my life will be spent in Los Cabos, Mexico.  We’ll tour the destination hot-spot that is Cabo San Lucas, dine at Cabo Wabo, release baby sea turtles into the wild, lounge by the beach, take “scuva diving” lessons, and cap it all off with a romantic, private massage right on the beach.  (Note: scuva diving is not a typo on my part.  That’s how it was advertised.)”

Fast forward to present day:

Since waiting 28 years to get my first massage from a certified therapist, I have been “lucky” enough to be on the receiving end twice in the last six months.  (In reality, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find out that actually neither one of them was licensed.)

My first experience of getting a soothing, relaxing massage, as already stated, came in Cabo while on my honeymoon.  One day while roaming around the resort, my brand spanking new wife and I wandered down to the spa to peruse the menu and make plans for reservations.  We quickly decided that it only made sense to get a couples massage on the beach…after all, we were on our honeymoon!  Throughout the week, while soaking up countless rays and enjoying our surroundings, we couldn’t help but  notice a little hut that was off all by its lonesome a little further down the beach than all the rest.  We wondered aloud what made it so special, and I naturally assumed that it was for massages.  Turns out I was right on the money – starting this marriage off right! 

On the last evening of our stay, we made our way down to the spa to get checked in for our massage.  We were given robes, keys to the locker room, and instructions to get changed and enjoy the amenities in the locker room until a staff member came to get us.  Those amenities I mentioned included a steam room, hot tub, and massage chair/recliner type of thing…not a bad place to spend 20 minutes.  However, that’s when things started heading downhill ever-so-slightly.

We were escorted to the “semi-private” massage hut that utilized roll down blinds to shield us from direct sunlight, which was nice.  The part that wasn’t so nice was that we couldn’t help but notice the amount of activity surrounding the hut that particular evening.  All week this little shack had been isolated by itself, but once it came time for my wife and I to be lying front and center and covered only by a towel, the resort decided that it would be a prime time to set up a buffet dinner right next door.  They literally erected a full buffet not 15 feet away from where we were trying to relax.  As if that wasn’t uncomfortable enough, the massage therapist assigned to me proceeded to lean down and whisper in my ear how she was going to give me something special by leaning right next to my ear and whispering, “Now I give you something special.”  Weird.  Lady, that’s my brand new wife laying within arms length.  Afterwards, we compared the services we received and I discovered that I indeed did NOT receive anything special. 

Following our massage, we were led to our own little “private” hut right on the beach that had been reserved for us with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries.  Incredibly romantic and a very sweet gesture.  However, in order to get to said hut, we were paraded in our robes along the diners partaking in the buffet.  <–  Seriously.  That wasn’t awkward at all.  <–  Not serious.

Most recently, my wife and I found out about a new place opening up in our area and had come across some coupons (pronounced COO-puns).  Said COO-puns entitled us to a one hour chinese reflexology foot massage with free full body massage all at a very discounted price.  That simply translates into a one hour full body massage.

We bounced into the establishment with a spring in our step from finding such a gem of a deal, and were instantly warmly greeted by a friendly guy standing behind the front counter.  As you might expect, (You probably would.  I did.) we responded with smiles of our own and began talking in our normal voices.  It is important to be aware at this point of my wife’s speaking voice.  She is a very soft-spoken individual with a sing-song voice that could be likened to an adult Minnie Mouse – in a cute, adorable sort of way, not an annoying, screeching, stab your eardrums out with pencils kind of way.  After greeting the employee, my wife took over to handle the business of purchasing our massages and was immediately shushed!  I didn’t catch on to this initially because I simply couldn’t fathom a situation where my wife would be considered “too loud.”  With the deal we received, we ended up getting several massages with the idea that we could use them as gifts.  The problem there arose when the guy put it all on one gift card, without thinking to realize that two people may not want that many massages all for themselves. 

After making the purchase and returning to our car, we noticed that there could very well be a flaw in the system regarding how many massages we had just paid for.  Assuming that we would get separate certificates for each session, we found out that we were instead given a gift card with a flat sum on it.  How would they know when we returned that we had bought a package and were supposed to get a certain number of massages instead of being charged regularly and having too much taken off the card?  We pondered the possibility for a brief moment and came to the conclusion that we should go back in and double-check all of that.  Again, we were warmly greeted by the friendly gentleman behind the counter.  Again, my wife spoke up and began voicing our concerns.  And once again, she was shushed!  Twice in the span of 10 minutes??  My ears couldn’t believe my eyes!  However, we were assured that everything would work out as planned, so we took the guy at his word and left after exchanging quizzical glances regarding the guy’s peculiar social interactions.  You would think there would be a sign on the door or hanging in the lobby or something.  Something along the lines of “Quiet, please.  Thank you, Management.”  But nope!  You would think wrong. 

Anyway, we made the reservations and arrived for the big day.  We quietly entered the front door, not wanting an encore of the previous visit.  We silently saddled up to the counter and checked in with the same feller from our last trip. 

We were escorted to our semi-private room by way of being led through the main room that was dimly lit and contained probably 8 beds with people sprawled out.  Right off the bat they brought in a bucket of hot, soapy water to soak our feet.  Once I was situated with my feet tucked in a wooden bucket that was barely big enough for my size 13 feet, the lady started off with lathering my head in some type of oily lubricant.  That’s when I heard some kind of slapping/smacking commotion coming from the main room, and I couldn’t refrain from smiling…this was gonna be entertaining!  With the focus beginning on my head and face, the lady decided to initiate gouging my eyes out.  That led to an attempt to separate my ear lobes from the rest of the cartilage.    She then started cranking on my neck by forcing me into a seated position solely by pushing my head upward from lying in a supine position.  Then she migrated to my arms where she folded them across my chest one at a time and proceeded to smack the living shit out of them!  I was tempted to report her to the police for accosting me!  After popping all of my fingers, she moved down to my feet and legs.  She dried them off then used the lube on my feet, which evaporated by the time she started on my legs meaning that my leg hair was plucked out of their roots by the masses.  She completed my lower body by cracking all of my toes, then picking up my legs and dropping them back down onto the footstool repeatedly in a comical fashion.  Finally, I was instructed to roll over where she proceeded to caress my buttocks with the vice grips that were attached to her wrists, before she put me in a half-nelson and picked up where she left off from beating me senseless.  She finished up by pressing her substantial body weight down on my spine, turning me into a reverse taco.

I left feeling extremely invigorated and ready to take on the rest of the night!  My wife, however, complained that the guy who gave her massage was a little rough.  I debated with myself about going back and demanding to have a man-to-man with the little guy, but knowing how bad my wife and I had been beaten, I didn’t feel prepared to re-initiate the onslaught.  I failed to notice until the next evening just how sore the soles of my feet were.  With all of that being said, I’m anxious for a return visit!  Don’t judge me.

Thank you, that is all.


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