My sister passed this along to me, because it was unpublishable on her blog. It's a little story that happened to her and her friend as they celebrated mother's day!
Below is a story of friendship and of sweat.
My girlfriend Janel and I are at a local spa (which will remain nameless for obvious reasons) waiting for a massage. We are two of several other mothers waiting. On this day, the spa is open just for it's Mother's Day Special. Only the services included in the special are available on this day that they "aren't usually open". And the workers there keep managing to tell us that. "That service isn't available today. We aren't usually open Sundays".
Anyhow, after an hour of waiting for a service that is available, a 15 minute massage, two people come out looking to massage some moms. Someone tells my friend and I that Joy and Ken (not their real names) will be handling our massages. We follow them to a room where we will be getting massaged together. Now, typically during a massage I don't talk. But since my best friend is in there with me and there are two other people in the room, we converse.
However, half way through the massage I stop talking. There's something else on my mind. I feel something fall onto my head, a droplet of liquid. Not sure what. I wonder if Ken is using oil. Perhaps some of it has dribbled from the bottle or his hand onto me. But just as that thought crosses my mind, I feel another drop. This one onto my back. It can't be oil. Why just one drop? That wouldn't make sense. Then, another drop onto my shoulder. That's when I realize. It's sweat. Eeeeeeeeee. Sweat. Ken is sweating on me. I think I knew from the get go but I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to believe a stranger was sweating on me.
Finally, it's over. The 15 minute massage, that felt a lot longer, is over. Tanny and Ken leave the room. I look up and tell Janel "He sweat on me!". She laughs. We try to think of other things that it may have been, another culprit for the droplets. None. I point to one clear droplet running down my shoulder. It's sweat, I'm sure of it. My good friend Janel wipes it off for me.
Now up until this point, I'm still unable to fully convince myself that I was indeed sweat on. Janel and I talk and decide that we'll know for sure once we see Ken. If he's looking as cool as a cucumber, we'll have to further investigate. But if he's sweaty, we'll know... we'll know he sweat on me. Janel and I get dressed and walk out of the room. There stands Joy and a very wet looking Ken. His long floppy hair is wet, stuck to his face.
My heart drops. I feel dirty, yucky. I look at Janel and her face sobers up. "We can go take a shower" she says. But, not on this day, not on this day when they "aren't usually open". Nope on this day the shower is closed, if you will. So, I take my sweaty body which is sweaty courtesy of someone else, and go home. I think my shower last night was more refreshing, relaxing and clean than what I endured at that spa.
Don't get the wrong idea though. I really did enjoy myself. I promise. Of course it wasn't for the relaxation aspect of it or the pampering part. With 200 moms going through a spa that isn't "usually open on Sundays" it was tough to feel relaxed or pampered. However, there was plenty to be amused by, plenty to laugh at, and I'm glad my friend Janel was there to endure it all with me. Good times.
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