Everyone loves a good happy ending.  I love them in a fairytale, or when you hear that something really good has happened to someone deserving, or maybe it’s at the end of a film and you just know they are going to get together and life will be all hunky-dory.  But let me just testify right now, that when it comes to massages, I feel really uncomfortable with happy endings.

So this is where I tell you about my ‘oh god liv it could only happen to you moment’ (which there are more than I can count on my fingers and toes).  This story began on Friday when I left work early, having a half-day off up my sleeve.  I had been feeling really average for most of the week, so thought hey, a massage may just be what the doctor ordered.  I had recently walked past one in my area and thought today was the day to try it out.

Now let me just say for the record, I am NOT intending to have any business closed as these places are there to service people in a safe and harm free environment…it’s just I wasn’t quite prepared to be entering this type of establishment unknowingly.  I can’t also say I am 100% sure it was one of ‘those places’ but there were lots of signs, signs that should have told me-this place is not for you little lady, time to turn around and try your usual one.

If you haven’t caught on yet, I’ll break it down for you with points of difference to your regular run of the mill massage centre:

A)    There is no phone number on the front of this building, it is off a side road

B)    When I enter, there are no female clients inside.  There is a silver headed man who looks surprised to see me.  He gives me a cheeky smile then hides his face behind a newspaper as if not to have been seen

C)     I am greeted with an equally as surprised employee with the expression of ‘are you lost, the nail salon is just up the road’

**right here is where I should have politely declined and left.  But no- I really wanted my massage straight away and maybe my writer’s intrigue got the better of me**

D)  The masseuse asks do I want to keep my underwear on  ….huh? So I chose undies on thanks

Now massages in general are not for everyone.  The idea of having a complete stranger rub their hands over you can sound intimate and is unbearable for some. Though for me, you could poke me with a stick and I’d love it. Maybe it’s a sign of too many years of partying and working hard, but my tired body could literally be massaged for an entire day and I could still go back next day for more.  I am happy to be tugged, stretched, turned upside down, manipulated, the harder the better please.

BUT- here I come back to points of difference of where I think the line just has to be drawn in the sand for me.

E) Hearing a man and woman giggling in the room next door is weird

F) When turning onto my back (like you do in some massages and yes there is always the awkward moment where you think is the masseuse getting a gander at my knockers) I expect to have my ladies covered, which there were not.  So I lie there in my undies thinking thank god I’ve had a wax, but probably should have worn a pair not so 4^th grader

G) I do not expect to have my breasts massaged, though now that they have, I realized they were actually quite sore (lots of yoga and boot camp) and it does feel nice. But next time will leave that for my boyfriend

H) hands going too high

I) oh god too high

Now before you think, here I am with a smile on my face leaving the place, I will correct you.  I am red faced yes, but more from embarrassment…..

…..but phew I can safely say that the lady chose to save her unusual skill set to the men flocking to the place weirdly at 3pm on a Friday afternoon.

I will not be swayed though, I am a keen advocate to go out and treat yourself to a massage cause they feel good and relax you.  It can be a way to ease aches and pains, or to reconnect with your body.  So for anyone who doesn’t ‘do’ massages, try it out.  There are so many talented therapists.

I just think from now on I’ll keep my happy endings to the storybooks and not in massage parlours is all.