This room, again, had plain white walls but the vibe was completely different from yesterday. In the far left corner sat a small mahogany table topped with an amber lamp, dimmed just enough to throw a warm glow into the room.
Center place was a white "bed" like table with two pillows, head and foot. Crisp white sheets covered the surface and were neatly folded for easy body "insertion."
I had come thinking I didn't like other people touching my body. If, during a pedicure, someone rubbed my legs I'd ask them immediately to stop -- it always hurt.
I've only had two massages in my life, both during the '80's, at a ritzy spa on The Plaza (those of you who remember Swansons may also remember their day of beauty -- hair, nails, massage, steam, cleansing, and champagne). I wasn't particularly impressed either time I had been gifted with a certificate to partake.
I was asked to take off my tee and bra, as well as my shoes and necklace. I chambered up onto the table and was delighted to find the sheets and pillows were warm to the touch -- not hot, just pleasantly relaxing. The table was heated.
I was offered a choice of music and picked some new age piano number which played softly in the background.
The masseuse turned me onto my side, placed the warmed pillow under my head and between my legs. Behind me she opened some bottles and then we began.
Heaven. Her hands had been warmed like the bedding. She understood I didn't want deep massage, just soothing, muscular rubbing and she went at it, talking quietly to me about careers, dogs, husbands, homes. She started as a graphic artist but 16 years ago decided to study massage and become an independent contractor.
After what seemed like an age, I was turned onto my back, pillows under my head and knees. She worked each arm, then my shoulders, my neck, and finally my face and scalp.
It was blissfully relaxing.
After 30 minutes I was ready to depart. I paid my bill ($25 for 30 minutes -- you can't beat that and if you want the info just ask) and made my appointment for next week.
This new age stuff might have something to it, after all.