Saturday, January 5, 2013

A massage on base...

I've been to the salon/spa twice now.  The first visit was to trim up the back of my bob.  The stylist did pretty good considering the language barrier.  What helped was that the back of her haircut was exactly what I wanted so when the translator asked for further details--I think the stylists are just most familiar with #2 on top and fade to #1 aka man-cuts--I was able to say "just like that."  It got a little iffy towards the end because the most underneath part of my hair is shaped in an "M" at the nape of my neck but we muddled through and my hair is no shorter than I'd like it.  I'm SO not worried about what the style would look like should I "hit the town."  Nobody cares.  My days are spent going to work, going to the gym, and being in my room; on my day off, I might venture out but, really, no matter the day, I'm throwing a beanie cap on my head and it's gonna get smushed.  Nobody gives a wazoo what anybody's hair looks like...provided it's in regs.  But that's a whole other story.
Anyhow...my second visit, I went in for a massage.  A full body massage.  Now, if you've had a full body massage anywhere reputable in the States, you know what an elegant experience they usually are.  You get a robe and some slippers.  You're often asked if you'd like a glass of water while you wait.  Then, when it's time, the masseuse shows you the room, asks you to doff your robe when they leave and then lay down under the fairly heavy sheet.  The lights are dim; it's quiet; there might be some aromatherapy wafting through the room; you're in a place of solitude and relaxation.  Yeah, not so much here!
You're lead down a corridor of "rooms" that are no more than cubicles cordoned off by plywood and sheets.  Sheets that are hanging on those large round hoops used for shower curtains which means: one big swoop and everyone is knowing your business.  There is no robe; there are no slippers; no glass of water while you wait.  You're asked to take your clothes off and lay down under the (should have been donated to the goodwill) sheet.  Let me just say that it's thin enough that I could almost see the various bruises that had accumulated on my legs.  So, because all I had were my workout pants (bootcut VS workout pants under my PT pants), I wasn't able to get the full body...just back.  Okay, I can deal with that.
The masseuse (a woman) stood at the side of the bed and started the massage on one side of my back and then moved to the other side; she then moved to the head of the bed.  Okay, I'm not really comfortable with some strange woman's breasts leaning against the back of my head while my back is rubbed.  Hell, I don't even want the boobs of someone I KNOW resting against the back of my head.  That was odd but, since it was shortlived, I did my best to ignore it.  Then she started rubbing the small of my back.  Every since my liposuction in 2009, I really have no fat there.  It was sucked out.  So, she's rubbing the crap out of my skin, into my bones.  I told her "It hurts when you rub there."  She proceeds to rub harder.  "Ouch!" and I move my hands behind me to get her hands away from me.  "Harder is good, no?"she asks.  "Not all the time," I say. 
After that, she asks me to turn over and I'm thinking: what is she going to rub if this was just a back massage.  Needless to say, my hands are covering the private parts up top.  She puts a towel over me and proceeds to rub my arms.  The whole time, through this whole massage, she's trying to engage me in conversation and I'm just wanting to tune everything out and zone.  That SO didn't happen.
There were just too many distractors for me to relax: her breasts having rested on the back of my head, her rubbing my back too hard, being one gust of wind away from everyone seeing my business, and the noise outside the "cubicle."  Did I mention the fella in the next cubicle that sounded like he *really* liked his massage?  Every once in awhile I'd hear a lengthy sigh come from that direction.  You know, one of those shuddering "oh, oh, ooohhh" sighs.  Yeah, way too distracting.
Now, I did all for two reasons: one, why not? I could use a good massage; and two, 'cause one of the guys at work wanted to know if anyone had had one on base and I thought "see reason one."  When I got back to work and was relating this story to one of the others who has been deployed here before, he told me that most of the women don't enjoy the massages and most of the fellas have no issue.  I'm sure.  If you have no problem with any of the distractors that I mentioned, it would be a great experience.  All told, thank goodness it was only $10 but I'm gonna save my pennies and pay the $$ when I get back home to have the experience that I'm used to.
I will go back for hair trims though.  lol.

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