The Incident At The Spa

Last Sunday, I spent most of the day at a local spa.

As I've mentioned before, I have my bum arm worked on by a masseuse now and then. 

(Except, even though I always say it's my arm that's screwed up – in reality, it's the entire upper right quadrant of my body.)  

It's just so much easier to say "arm," isn't it?

When I get a massage it hurts, and not in the way a massage might "hurt" a normal, able bodied person.  It hurts quite a lot, and my pain level escalates for several days after.  It's one of those things that's good for me even though it's very painful.  I always dread going for a massage.  Lately, however, my (extremely atrophied) muscles have been spasming worse and worse.  I couldn't put it off any longer.

So there I was,

Hanging out all naked-ish with just a white fluffy robe to wear. 

I knew I was assigned to a male masseuse so while I was waiting for him, I tweeted about how I was about to have my body rubbed by a hot man.

Except …?

Guess who showed up to rub my body?

It was Tattoo from Fantasy Island.

I was so shocked to see Tattoo walk out to greet me, I asked him what his name was.

"Fabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz," he mumbled.

"Oh!  Tattoo!  It's so nice to meet you," I replied.

Tattoo just looked at me blankly.

Then Tattoo escorted me back to a dark, quiet, room with soft music playing so we could be alone.

Tattoo exited the room for a minute.  I hung my robe on the hook provided, and slipped completely naked under a sheet, face down, on the massage table.

Tattoo promptly returned.

He was quiet for a moment and then his hand lightly touched my right shoulder blade.

"Much pain?" he asked, instantly seeing the scars differences on the right side of my body.

"Yes," I answered.

And then Tattoo began working on me.

You would think, after all my years of physical therapy, I'd be used to having strangers a strange man touch me, but I'm not.

(I'm so proud of that last sentence, for reasons I won't go into today.)

All sorts of thoughts go through my head while I'm getting a massage.



Try not to grimace.

Don't moan no matter how much it hurts.

Don't moan no matter how good it feels.

Oops, my vagina just slipped.

Yes, that's right – my vagina slipped right out into the open.

(Wait … that sounds so bad – the words open and my vagina shouldn't be in the same sentence.)

Tattoo was doing this tricky thing where he was switching the sheet that didn't really cover me very much anyway.  

I don't know how to explain it, but I've had The Magic Sheet Trick done before at this same spa.  They remove one sheet, while putting a fresh one on you.  It's a slight of hand, a magic trick, an illusion of sorts.  One instant you have a sheet on, and the next they've replaced it with a fresh one – without you ever really being completely naked in front of them.  

Except you're left wondering:  How did they do that?  Was I completely naked?  Or wasn't I?  

Except this time …?

Something went wrong.

I think it was my fault.

It seemed like the sheet got tangled on my foot, or my leg, or something happened.

In an effort to help Tattoo with the magic trick of presto, whammo, sheet replacement, I separated my legs and kind of lifted my left leg.  At that exact moment, he pulled the sheet off and there I was all open-aired-vagina-ish-y right in front of him.

Seeing as he was only about three feet tall, which was the approximate height of the table, Tattoo was suddenly eye to hoo hah with me, brazilian bikini wax and all.


I guess I should have kept my legs together like my mother always told me not have done that.

I yelled, "Oh no!" and then promptly slammed my legs together tight.  I immediately shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

That might have worked if I hadn't …

Just said "Oh no!" real loud and slammed my legs shut with enough force to shake the room.

Nevertheless, I feigned sleep because what else could I do?

I couldn't open my eyes and SEE him after that.

Instead, I just pretended to sleep through the next forty minutes while he worked on me.

Finally, my massage was over and I felt Tattoo drape the robe over me.

"Take your time; I'll be waiting right outside for you," he said as he exited the room.

What to do, what to do?

I knew I couldn't stay there forever but I tried.

Reluctantly, slowly, very slowly, I got up and put the robe back on.

I stood there, hesitating, for a long time.

Finally, I turned the handle and opened the door to find Tattoo patiently waiting for me.

I avoided eye contact as he escorted me through a maze the spa until I was back at the door to the ladies locker room.

"I hope to see you again," he said.

I looked at him then, our eyes meeting for the first time since my vagina slipped.

I could swear his eyes were laughing.

I immediately looked at the ground.

"Um, yes, thank you," I said and I scurried away as fast as I could.

I spent the rest of the afternoon convincing myself of the following:

 •  My vagina is not the first vagina Tattoo has ever seen.

 •  Tattoo probably didn't even notice my vagina in his face.

 •  There are vaginas everywhere in a spa.

 •  My vagina probably made itself invisible when it saw Tattoo looking at it.

© Twenty Four At Heart 

23 Responses to “The Incident At The Spa”

  1. Joanne

    yes, it probably was in steal mode. Then again, this is what you are famous for, right?All, your readers are thinking, “OH goodie!! an INCIDENT at the spa!!!! YAY!”

  2. Deidre

    And this is why I wear undies during a massage.
    I am blushing from this story.

  3. Jan

    If my chubby bod were being rubbed down by a 3-foot-tall masseur and he got an eyefull of my love tunnel, I can guarantee the *last* thing he’d say to me is “I hope to see you again.”
    See? Makes you feel better about it, doesn’t it?

  4. Pam

    You are hilarious! It sounds like Tattoo had the time of his life. hahaha

  5. Linda

    Only you my Friend, only you! Thank you for ALL you do for the rest of us! LOL! 😀

  6. Nancy P

    Whoops! Ha ha only YOU would that happen to!

  7. Missy

    I really like the idea of the invisible vagina as a superpower! Cartoons are just around the corner!

  8. Linda

    The power to convince oneself that a freakishly embarassing incident did not really happen does not work if you post it on a blog. (I am thinking about things I have convinced myself that did not happen) However, the power of the embarrassment does recede when you share it with the world. (I hope) Thanks for sharing 24. I laughed out loud.

  9. Amy_in_Stl

    I’ve never had them change sheets with me on the table. Any idea why they would do that? Also, I always wear full butt underwear when I get a massage. In fact, I wear a very specific type that is very stretchy should they need to move it aside but still allow me to maintain my modesty.

  10. Twenty Four At Heart

    Yes Amy.
    The treatment I get is a combination full body massage, heat treatment, and “wrap” with steaming eucalyptus leaves. The sheet gets soaked … as would any under clothes which is why they ask you not to wear them. They change the sheet twice during the treatment.

  11. Jack @ TheJackB

    That is how I became a father the first time. I tripped on the sheet, she flew off of the table and my toga slipped off. Well, somehow there was a little thumping and bumping between parts and well…
    It was kind of like Arnold I think.

  12. Jason

    This was a GOOD one!
    Except, from the way you described it at first, it made it sound like your vagina had slipped out, like a boob might slip out, like it was heavy and wobbly or something. Yep. I did. Suzanne, your vagina is NOT heavy and wobbly, is it? Or is it?
    At least you were all tidy down there.


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