There was a time when pampering yourself meant cutting your toe nails in front of the tele. Beauty therapies were for that special date, a wedding or a graduation.
I have found that things have changed in the world when I wasn’t looking. Now you can pamper yourself until it hurts. This revelation came to me the other day when I saw a massage on offer and inside the alcove was a hammer. What he was actually massaging I’m not sure, but tools of the trade have never looked so formidable.
I see now you can get a Bowen, a Thai, a reiki and the list goes on. What they entail I’m not sure, but I am game for anything, well most things, once.
I waited outside the studio for my pamper session. The previous client was kneaded, bent out of shape and then back again. They came out smiling which is always a good sign so I went in.
They have this bench that has a hole in it for your face, although as I sat down for the preamble it looked rather like a commode chair to me. Anyway I outlined my needs in the neck, shoulder, elbow areas and was told to lie down.
He went to work on my feet. Go figure. Apparently we are connected all over. I hoped so otherwise my big toe was getting pretty expensive, extensive treatment and the rest of my body was jealous. There was soothing music, scented candles and an ambiance conductive to rest and relaxation.
I know I should have been paying attention, but I nodded off. Well you know how it is when you’re finally relaxed and no one is bothering you. It’s like sleeping on a train only without the neck snap when you realise you have missed your station. I woke up with a snort. OK so I snore a bit. Well a lot. I’m not sure I was dribbling, but he didn’t say anything and I wasn’t about to ask.
My neck and shoulders were given the once over and that man has fingers of steel. He prodded where I’d never been prodded before. He unknotted my knots, loosened my tight bits and generally found every ouch spot I didn’t even know I had. We both worked up a sweat as he unravelled my body into a supple willowy sapling again. Not a bad trick for someone like me who is over the hill. My neck felt like one of those women in Africa with all those rings and my shoulders positively bristled with flexibility. I sprang off the bed, gazelle like and paid.
Of course beauty doesn’t come without a payoff. The next day I was a ‘bit’ sore. Well actually I had the feeling that while I was sleeping that man with fingers of steel actually used his hammer on my body, just for fun and then charged me for it. Next time I think I will stick to hand cream and a nail file. I never heard of anyone dribbling or getting hurt doing their cuticles. I prefer the saying, “beauty comes from within”, it’s cheaper and less painful in the long run.
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