So, I was signed up for my cellutox treatment (sounds terrifying and incredible all at once, right?) and was told it would be an hour after my electrocution treatment was supposed to take place.
I passed time reading magazines and listening to hung over girls talk piece their Friday night activities together. Glad that I was able to remember every moment of my Vegas experience (thanks Dad), I waited patiently for my name to be called. 20 minutes after my treatment was supposed to begin, I approached a woman behind the desk who can only be described as a giant blond Clydesdale of a chick.
After giving her my name, she revealed that Oopsie, I am giving you the treatment - guess we were both just waiting for the other to say something. I don't know about you, but that made no sense to me whatsoever. Was I supposed to summon my psychic powers to determine who would be giving me this cellutox treatment?
Annnnyway, Clydesdale Kendra explained that the 50 minute massage post-treatment would be taken down to 30 minutes. Fine Flicka, let's get this show on the road. I was whisked into a back room and we got underway.
As I was scrubbed down, Kendra flipped me on my back and covered up my tatas. Not realizing their size (I don't know how there can be confusion when they are right in front of your face), she folded the towel in half and re-covered.
"Oh goodness, looks like we'll need to use the whole towel to cover you up!"
"Ha," I managed. "Yeah."
Covered up, scrubbed down, immersed in water and rinsed off, I was moved to a second room for the massage. I should have ducked out.
Kendra gave an alright massage, fairly uneventful. Until the end.
On my back, it was time for the neck/head massage. I LOVE this point of any massage. However, from time to time, my hair has gotten a little pull unintentionally. I was at the peak of relaxation when Kendra gave a little tug. I was a little startled but relaxed again quickly, making a little note to myself that she didn't acknowledge it.
She was finishing my scalp massage, running her fingers up through my hair when she tightened her grip and yanked my hair. Not once, but twice.
Now, call me crazy, but the only times my hair has been tugged like that have been by guys during, ummm "intimate" moments.
My entire body tensed. I couldn't get out of there soon enough. Between the lack of boob coverage and the hair pull, I'd had enough of my treatment.
Anyone else have awkward massage/treatment stories? There have to be some good ones out there...