Another long day of training ended. Lindsay told me as I hurriedly walked out the door that she and Aspen had an appointment for a massage around 6 pm. I thought about it. I thought about the studying I had yet to do and another paper I had yet to start. It was 4:30 pm. Should I?
When I got back to my room, I thought about how much homework I had to get done . . . and called Lindsay. "Hey, do you think the place can take another person in at 6?" She called the massage parlor and, yes, they could fit me in.
This place is tucked into a corner among other non-descript stores. The sign was big enough, though, that it would have been hard to miss. Lindsay said, "This place looks like one of those happy ending places. It should be good, though." Her remarked solicited loud chuckling from some guys we passed as we walked.
My first thought as we walked into the parlor was, "Goodness, it's hot in here" because it was. It was hot and muggy. It was only as we left the place that I realized, 'Oh, of course. It's a sauna!'
The receptionist showed us around. The place was much bigger than it looked from the outside. There was a changing room, dry, wet, and steam saunas, a cold pool, a hot whirlpool, and the rows of massage tables.
Nothing different from spas I've been in before. Then . . . I noticed the stark naked customers walking around. The receptionist gave us towels and our locker keys. Hmm. Did I shave? I'm sure no one will notice, right?
It was unexpected. The entire experience was unexpected. We were scrubbed cleaner than a newborn and massaged head to toe with hot oil by some very strong Japanese women in their, uh, 50s? 60s? (They're Asian. They could've been 80something).
2 and a half hours later, we emerged transformed. We have skins soft as neonates, muscles as supple as kneaded clay, and souls renewed ready for anything.
What a wondrous bonding experience. Lindsay, Aspen. After that, no secret is sacred . . .
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