the treatment

Yesterday morning, just after 11, I was lying face down on a massage bed at a place called the salon to enjoy a birthday gift for a back and neck massage. It was a long overdue voucher treat and I had some time to spare.

For thirty minutes I was in the hands of a darling called Rene. She did not insist on speaking to me the whole time so I could just close my eyes and disappear under the pressure from her elbows, hands, and fingertips.

Half an hour later I felt exactly as one should after a massage.

After getting my shirt back on I went out to the reception area where Rene awaited me with a glass of water. After being silent for the duration of the massage she decided to get chatty.

While I was sipping my water she handed me a price list and told me about the different treatments one offer.

“We also have facials for men,” said Rene, “manicures and pedicures and,” here she pauses and gives an awkward smile, “back waxes.”

I did not choke on my water or spit it out all over the counter. I did not drop the glass. Did not give her an unfriendly look or even said anything back. I just forced a smile and left with a price list in hand.

“Enjoy the rest of your week,” she said with a smile so big her eyes seemed to disappear.

Who did Rene think she was? Suggesting a back wax with her strange little smile.

I realized why Rene had been so silent all the time. While applying deep pressure to my lower back she was contemplating how good a spread of warm wax would look in that exact same spot.

She was getting worked up about the slight jerk of my body and the groan that I’d release every time she pulled away the wax strip. She could not speak because she was fantasizing about my lower back being wiped with skin calming lotion to keep it from breaking out in spots.

I am just too aware that I have a patch of fluff just above my pants line. I was not shouting hooray the day I discovered it and for years I have tried to get rid of it. Living in Asia where bodily hair is as rare a sighting as Bree van der Kemp in a strip club it was a constant bother to me.

But, I have decided to just chill about it and let it sprout for the time being because god knows it could have been worse.

Obviously Rene has other ideas. I’m just grateful that she did not see my chest!