A SPA VIRGIN makes a confession

Tweet

Two years ago, I was hired to manage a small spa in our city. Prior to my assumptionto I had to meet one of my bosses. It was already around 6 o’clock in the afternoon on a humid, rainy Friday, but he insisted on meeting me that day because he was passing by the mall where I was shopping. My boss was at the stop light about a hundred meters from the mall. But those hundred meters took him two hours to traverse—all because of traffic! It took us another hour to get to his friend’s place and by this time, my head was already spinning and I was ready to throw up. I continued to sniff White Flower in an attempt to soothe my nerves. My boss asked, “What’s wrong? Is it the car or my driving?” I answered, “No, it’s me.” At 10 o’clock, we got to the restaurant where we’re supposed to have dinner. I could only take in some broth after depositing my stomach’s contents in the john. After a hasty meal, we made our way to the spa that they wanted to pattern—Spa Acropolis in Libis, Quezon City—a sanctuary within a growing commercial district. Finally, we reached the place an hour before midnight. As I inhaled the pleasing aroma of mixed herbs and oils inside the Spa, I started to relax. Aaahh…my first spa visit. We were told that the sauna, steam room, and Jacuzzi were already closed for the night, but that we could still take a shower and have a massage. As per my boss’ recommendation, I chose the combination massage of Swedish and Shiatsu. We were given towels and slippers, while my eyes took in their amenities and equipment. I immediately took a quick shower and was led to the massage room that had eight beds. There were about six of us in the room, and I was amazed at the fluidity of the motions executed by the masseuses. Despite my state and the dimly lit room, I couldn’t help but look at the other patrons—they were confident and at ease as their respective masseuses did their routines. And most of all, everyone was butt-naked! I then felt silly for wearing my underwear to the massage room. Soon, my therapist’s nimble hands put me under a spell and my tensions melted at her touch. It was a wonderful feeling and I closed my eyes to savor each press, stroke and caress. I couldn’t sleep—each touch was too precious for me to pass up for a moment of slumber. Finally, the allotted hour was up and I was totally refreshed. Although we were not able to sample all the amenities that 7came with our service, the massage was enough to make my first spa visit a memorable one. When I got up was the only time I realized how hungry I was.