Said a message therapist to me as I attempted to remain calm and tranquil on his massage TABLE. It's not a BED, it's a TABLE. Never call a massage therapist's table a BED. It's awkward. "Yes, welcome to my lair...I mean...my massage room". Yeah, no.
This particular massage therapist specializes in more of the clinical aspects of massage. He CAN, as he refers to it, "fluff and buff", but he's more clinical than emotional. I have a great friend who is a brilliant massage therapist but dueling schedules (we both have three kids and I'm OFTEN not available during weekdays, when she is available) resulted in an urgent last-minute search for a substitute. Thus, my introduction to Mr. Clinical. I digress.
When Mr. Clinical mentioned that he could do some kind of cranial inter-oral manipulation technique thingy, I didn't think too much of it. Sure. Why not? I'm an adventurer by nature, curious to a fault. So when he opened a cabinet and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves my mind went a wee bit whirly. "Wait", I said, "are you massaging INSIDE my mouth"? "Yes I am", he answered, without missing a beat.
I don't know about you, but there are very few individuals who I have granted the privilege to get inside my mouth. If you twisted that statement, it's on you. Seriously. My dentist, who has EARNED my trust and the right to be near my incisors, and my babies. When they were babies. You know...when babies grab the corner of your mouth like a fish hook. It's darling, when it's your BABY. Not even my husband peers inside my mouth.
With rubber gloves on and a mighty extended finger awaiting, I thought to myself "what the heck, I wonder what's going to happen next" and opened wide.
Indeed, that massage therapist worked some muscle relaxation madness. Who knew?
All was going swimmingly until I caught a glimpse of this massage TABLE scene from the outside looking in. I don't mean catching a reflexion in a mirror. I mean in my mind's eye. That happens to me, a lot.
I have a ridiculous tendency and compulsion to find humor in awkward situations. Such was the situation and I was the protagonist of my own comedy. Through contorted lips and cheek, and massage-oiled double chin, I caught the silliness of the moment and laughed. I tried really hard to NOT LAUGH. Have you ever laughed at the dentist with those sucky hoses and clamps all stuck in your mouth? Once you start, it's very difficult to stop. It feeds itself.
Unfortunately, I bit his finger, mid-laugh, just a teeeeeenie bit. He didn't seem to mind too much.
Good times, Mr. Clinical. Good times.
PS...no fingers were harmed in the writing of this blog. Many thanks to SFX makeup, morticians wax, and skin illustrator for the very HORRIFIC rotting finger effect.
No comments:
Post a Comment