Venn Diagrams, Yoga Pants, and the Story of LMS's First Massage

I'm a girl, and I have friends.  I am not a nun.  We're not playing Guess Who, I'm just giving you a build up to the story I'm about to tell you… so the combination of those three things means that I have friends who get married.  When girls get married, there's all kinds of stuff to do.  I don't think guys do anything like this, but that's OK.  Next week, one of my sweet friends is getting married, and her MOH (maid of honor) organized a breakfast and massage for some of the friends this morning. 

I know my friend, which is a general prerequisite for friendship, but I didn't know who all would be there or her MOH, who's from out of town.  The text invite said wear comfy clothing because we'd be having an hour long relaxation and reflexology massage.  I tried my best to imagine a Venn diagram where comfy clothes intersected with young/artsy/slightlyhipster/professional/cool clothes intersected.  There wasn't much in my wardrobe that fit there.  I made a guess and went with a black vneck and some yoga pants.  [I don't really do yoga, and I don't really ever wear these pants, but I made an educated stab in the fashion darkness.]

From the breakfast place full of young/gorgeous/hipster/professional/cool people, we got in our cars and followed the blue GoogleMaps dot to the address of the place.  When I pulled in, I was skeptical.  It was an Asian strip mall with a market, nail places, shopping center, etc.  I called the MOH and she gave me the name of the place we were supposed to be.  It was called Thai Foot Massage.  Crestfallen is a bit of an understatement for the state of my face.  I'm sure foot massages are fine for most people, but when you're as ticklish as I am, the prospect of an hour long foot massage is essentially the same as water boarding. 

I walked in and resigned myself to 3600 seconds of tickling.  I signed some kind of waiver that I didn't read.  The desk attendant showed us into the back room.  We put our stuff in lockers, and she led us into a large room with high ceilings, chandeliers and white braided curtains hanging from wooden posts.  A row of beds was arranged along the wall.  At the sight of those beds, my hope revived.  Could it be?  Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be torture?  I put my feet in a hot bucket of water and laid down on one of the beds.  That is how the most relaxing hour of my life [to date] began. 

The easiest way to describe it is having someone do yoga to you.  I don't remember everything that happened, which makes me think I fell asleep during part of it, but I do remember a lot of stretching and massaging and feeling sleepily content.  (I looked like this chick, except there was plenty of clothing being worn.)  The one moment that nearly unraveled all my half-conscious bliss was the moment the woman stuck her fingers in my ears.  I went from "ahhhhhhhhh, I didn't know my jaw muscle was that tight" to "YIPES, WOMAN!  GETCHYOUR FINGERS OUTTA MY EARS!"  Don't know why that happened, but somehow I recovered. 

The woman pulling my heel straight up in the air and rubbing the heck out of my shoulder knots would intermittently make comments to the woman massaging my friend on my left.  I don't know what language it was - probably Thai.  I imagined they were saying something like "many are the lotus flowers when the Buddha gives his blessing" or "to the one who is hungry, every grain of rice is painted with gold", but I realized they were probably saying "dude, did you see that amazing hair tutorial I just pinned on Pinterest this morning?!" or "my new puppy just puked all over my white carpet, I can't believe it". 

After an hour of being pounded, stretched, and having an elbow dragged through my trapezius like a plow through a field, she said I was finished.  I don't know that it was exactly safe for me to drive home in such a relaxed state of delirium, but I did.  I made it alive and fell asleep on my bed, where I stayed for several hours, until I absolutely had  to get up. 

My name is Little Miss Sunshine, and I approve of massages.