So after having cleaned up and towelled off after being smothered in warm, smooth and delectable chocolate from the neck down and back into the plush Spa Diva bathrobe, I joined Francine outside who was patiently waiting by the door, and followed her as she led me to yet another dimly-lit room where some chirping bird nature music this time was playing in the background. It was facial time! I got comfy on the bed as Francine prepped her stuff. I'll assume that pretty much everyone, both male and female has had a facial at some point in their lives either at home or professionally so I'll spare you the boring and even graphic details of her gently coaxing out some _______ out of my pores (eeeewww!!!) It's a dirty job, I know, but, hey, someone's got to do it!!!
Anyways, after the facial, it was time for the finale, Swedish massage. Francine's job was done, and she turned me over to her colleague, Josee, her name was, if my memory serves me right (I'm pretty good for that!). She wasn't petite nor slim, like the rest of the Spa Diva girls I had met so far. Josee was a bubbly lady and of the sturdier stock, imperative for a masseuse, or at least an ideal physical quality that would serve them well in their chosen occupation, and make it a tad easier. This time I was asked to lie in a prone position on her massage table/bed. So hoisting my vertically-challenged self up onto the special bed, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled and attempted to relax and render my whole body limp. Josee's strong hands felt sooo good as she kneaded away and worked on my back muscles that I had somehow worked into knots over time. I was getting pretty drowsy and was dozing off into a semi-conscious, lucid dreamy state, still fully aware of the soft, gentle rain nature music emanating from the built-in ceiling speakers overhead, yet unable to keep my increasingly heavy eyelids from shutting close. And just as I was about to transition into the deep sleep/pre-REM stage, I was suddenly awakened as Josee, started to wack, rather a bit too zealously, my rear-end with the blades of her hands, in repeated karate chops. I mean, what was up with that??? I really should have done my homework in order to know what I was in for, when the gift-certificate said, a "one-hour Swedish massage. I broke into an uncontrollable giggling fit, that quickly progressed into an unrestrained, hearty belly laughing session, my
whole body shuddering, making Josee's bed rattle. My laughter was undoubtedly infectious for Josee ended up in stitches, too and after we both finally regained a semblance of composure, she confided that she never had a client like me and that I just made her day! Well of course she's never had, there is only one special (naive) me in the entire world! And then the hour was up all to soon just as I dreamily concluded that I could totally get used to being fussed and spoiled rotten that way, culminating my fabulous day at the spa courtesy of my sweet and loving hubby.
I left Spa Diva feeling so relaxed to the point that my legs felt like rubber that I swore would just buckle under me at any moment. Good thing Kumar was waiting for me to steady my stupurous gait. Yes, I was drunk - drunk with this all-enveloping sense of calm and tranquility. Kumar greeted me with a peck on the cheek and remarked appreciatively at how I smelt faintly of chocolate, and paid me a compliment on the "ethereal" glow my skin was apparently exuding (lol). We got into the car together and I glanced over to Maya in her carseat in the back, and admired the equally heavenly contentment so evident in her sleeping face, and expressed my gratitude to Kumar once more for the thoughtful treat and a half, without the happy-dance this time, but with a barely audible, whispered, "Thank You" as I drifted off into a deep and dreamless slumber...
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