In the days when my husband's company retreat included the
spouses, I'd join the enthusiastic group. One of the places we went to was a 200+ year old, award winning resort. As corporate guests, we were given a list of leisure
activities from which we could choose - a freebie. Golf was on the list,
a spa treatment, and other things that escape my memory. I chose the spa
treatment. Why not? I was away from
home - from motherhood, dish washing, bill paying, and laundry. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been to
a spa. Had I ever been to one? Maybe
it was just a hodgepodge of steam rooms and hot tubs at YMCAs and hotel pools. This was the real deal. It had to be worth my time. It had to be a feel-good, relaxing
experience.
I showed up at my appointed time and was greeted by a smiling and pleasant woman who verified what my pampering would be and then passed me on to the next attendant who led me to my hot sulfur water bath, complete with the scent of my chosen botanical.
The bath… not fabulous, but nice. I guess it's all about attitude. Anyway…
As this was over 12 years ago, I can't remember if I went into the sauna - I don't think so, though I have a vision of passing by it. Perhaps my memory of all the particulars was usurped by the next step of my treatment.
Attendant number 2 passed me on to attendant number 3 who was waiting for me in a super-sized swiss shower room. Shower heads and hoses were staring at me from every direction, though only one hose was on and pointed directly at me - the one held and blasted upon me by a woman I'd just met. Somehow, I had found myself without my white, soft, thick, secure and comfy robe, standing naked, 10 feet away and facing this plain faced woman as she directed water over everything from my shoulders down… well, almost everything. It was like she was power washing her deck.
Little did I know then, that I was having a Scotch Spray.
"Okayyy, Hmmm…" I thought. "Step outside of your comfort zone. Be sophisticated."
After I convinced myself that this was normal, I relaxed… well, not really. Where was I supposed to look? Facing her, I had to see her. She was 30ish, short, white, average sized, had short brown hair, and wore khaki pants and shirt. What was she thinking? Seems like a very monotonous job.
"Maybe she's a lesbian; that would probably make it more interesting for her."
"Maybe she's not a lesbian, and that she's having big fun on the job; inwardly laughing hysterically at all the paranoid, Scotch Spray novices who come through; in addition to myriad physical flaws in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
Soon I relaxed… really. I rotated, stood with my asset facing her and thought, "Bring it on!"
Surely the spa staff must get a bit of entertainment from their clients; but that's okay, because when the spa conversation came up at my table during the company dinner, we got the best laughs, too. As for where to look, one woman said she kept her eyes closed.
Recently, I was back at the resort which resurfaced the memory of the "hose me down" experience. (By the way, supposedly it "breaks up toxins and cellular blockage in preparation for a massage.") It made me think about other times when my naked body is on display; when things are drooping and bulging; when nooks and crannies are in the spotlight. The gyno, the mammo tech, the colonoscopy guy, my husband, my children: they've seen it all and it doesn't faze me in the least. However, there's something about casually walking naked through a locker room that is not in my span of comfort. Over the years, I've seen many women do it. Must be nice to be that confident.
Are you one of the "confident" people or lean toward modesty?
I showed up at my appointed time and was greeted by a smiling and pleasant woman who verified what my pampering would be and then passed me on to the next attendant who led me to my hot sulfur water bath, complete with the scent of my chosen botanical.
The bath… not fabulous, but nice. I guess it's all about attitude. Anyway…
As this was over 12 years ago, I can't remember if I went into the sauna - I don't think so, though I have a vision of passing by it. Perhaps my memory of all the particulars was usurped by the next step of my treatment.
Attendant number 2 passed me on to attendant number 3 who was waiting for me in a super-sized swiss shower room. Shower heads and hoses were staring at me from every direction, though only one hose was on and pointed directly at me - the one held and blasted upon me by a woman I'd just met. Somehow, I had found myself without my white, soft, thick, secure and comfy robe, standing naked, 10 feet away and facing this plain faced woman as she directed water over everything from my shoulders down… well, almost everything. It was like she was power washing her deck.
Little did I know then, that I was having a Scotch Spray.
"Okayyy, Hmmm…" I thought. "Step outside of your comfort zone. Be sophisticated."
After I convinced myself that this was normal, I relaxed… well, not really. Where was I supposed to look? Facing her, I had to see her. She was 30ish, short, white, average sized, had short brown hair, and wore khaki pants and shirt. What was she thinking? Seems like a very monotonous job.
"Maybe she's a lesbian; that would probably make it more interesting for her."
"Maybe she's not a lesbian, and that she's having big fun on the job; inwardly laughing hysterically at all the paranoid, Scotch Spray novices who come through; in addition to myriad physical flaws in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
Soon I relaxed… really. I rotated, stood with my asset facing her and thought, "Bring it on!"
Surely the spa staff must get a bit of entertainment from their clients; but that's okay, because when the spa conversation came up at my table during the company dinner, we got the best laughs, too. As for where to look, one woman said she kept her eyes closed.
Recently, I was back at the resort which resurfaced the memory of the "hose me down" experience. (By the way, supposedly it "breaks up toxins and cellular blockage in preparation for a massage.") It made me think about other times when my naked body is on display; when things are drooping and bulging; when nooks and crannies are in the spotlight. The gyno, the mammo tech, the colonoscopy guy, my husband, my children: they've seen it all and it doesn't faze me in the least. However, there's something about casually walking naked through a locker room that is not in my span of comfort. Over the years, I've seen many women do it. Must be nice to be that confident.
Are you one of the "confident" people or lean toward modesty?
