Hmm. How to describe.....It's as if this man took a balpein hammer and ground it into my flesh, hard enough to ensure he was "massaging" muscle, tissue AND bone. Ridiculous. Thankfully a girlfriend went with me, but it sounded as if her masseuse was a lot more "gentle" (I use this term loosely) with her than me. She commented that she heard a lot of slapping and beating coming from my direction, but didn't want to say anything because she didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to herself for fear that she was going to get similar treatment. I told her thanks.
There's a reason they have you lay on your stomach first and stick your head through the big donut hole apparatus. I'm pretty sure it's to muffle the screams. With eyes bulging, I prayed he would just stop massaging my back and move to my leg- until he moved to my leg. At this point I started laughing, I couldn't help it. Perhaps my body was going into survival mode- he eased up a bit, laughed himself and went back to his task....after belching. EEEWWWW. Dude, seriously?? And as Wyatt would say, Mom, did you just say dude? Ughhh the shame.
So why didn't you just tell him to stop or ease up you ask? Proving a point to myself I guess...I'm tough. I'm strong. I was also stupidly over thinking that perhaps the end result would be worth it..that this guy who is bending my leg back in an impossible direction knows what he's doing?!?!.....
Mercy.
The "rules" Good to know. |
No comments:
Post a Comment