When All I Really Wanted Was To Be Still, Like Broccoli

A couple of nights ago, Dave and I each had ourselves a massage.  We go to this kind of no-frills place, clean, legitimate (no gentleman's release) and cheap.

I don't go often enough to have a regular masseuse, so I was randomly assigned to this one guy.  We'll call him Russell, because I think that was his name, and also he seemed Russell-ish to me.

Russel was a freaking wacko.  He talked throughout the entire thing, and didn't pick up on my cues that I prefer a quiet experience.  (Such cues include the audible statement "I prefer a quiet experience.")

He kept telling me to breathe, and to relax.  Annoying, but pretty standard.  Then he started giving me guiding images to visualize during my not-so-quiet experience.  These images got progessively... colorful, culminating in him whispering to me in dulcet tones, "now... you're a mollusk."  More specifically, "an abalone!"  (I would have preferred to be a bivalve, not a gastropod.)

Now, Russell probably didn't know this, but ask me to visualize a mollusk, and all I can see in my head is a completely waxed pudendum, thanks to a certain former roommate of mine who shall remain unlinked herein but she is linked over there on the left so you can probably figure it out.  Said former roommate experimented with a complete home wax and emerged to announce "I look like a MOLLUSK."   

According to Russell, as a mollusk, I was supposed to visualize myself adrift in the sea (and hello? don't abalones attached themselves to rocks?), letting "the water bring me what I need, everything nourishing, and take away the debris"  So thanks, Russell.  Now I'm picturing abalone poop drifting off with the ebbing tide.  How very relaxing.

In Russell's defense, he did give a particularly grand butt cheek pummel.  Nevertheless, I will probably ask for "anyone but Russel" next time I make an appointment.  He'll just have to visualize that I really enjoyed his chatter and came back for another go.

Comments

[TasterSpoon]

I can totally hear you saying, "I prefer a quiet experience." I don't know how much more clear you could have been. Did you tip him?

The last massage I had was in the spring, to celebrate the end of marathon training and get the legs all limbered up for the event. And I went on and on to the masseuse about all the running, and my tight legs, and my sore butt, and my hamstrings, and I swear she fooled around with my shoulders for 45 minutes and didn't even look at my legs. I totally tipped her and blamed myself for being too subtle.

[Chris]

Mollusk? How did that even come up?

[KT]

I'm sure you probably go to a place in your hood, and not the cheap, no-frills massage place around the corner from me, so I've decided it's a rule that all cheap, no-frills massage places have to have some really wacko guy working for them.

I've never even been to that place but I have been accosted by their wacko guy, since he would hang around outside on slow nights.

[b32]

Did you tell him that, "In case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time tonight"?

[Bri]

I had my FIRST massage last week and had a similar experience, although I must admit, there was no talk of mollusk poop, nor did I think of pudendum. But it was odd and uncomfortable and my masseuse talked the whole time too. Blargh!