Question of the Day #46

I'm stressed. And when I get stressed, the left side of my back gnarls in crazy knots and I have trouble moving my head to the left or right. My shoulder tenses in constant pain. So yesterday, H and I decided to do something about it.

We went to Sunset Foot Massage where they do crazy reflexology on your feet. It's amazing how tapping the end of your toes can increase cognizance. (Supposedly. I have no proof.) But we're not just talking about tapping here. We're talking about rubbing knuckles into the bottom of your feet so hard that there are moments when if you could only loosen your leg from the man's evil grasp, you would.

But 40 minutes of hardcore foot pummeling is worth the pain. I mean, knowing that my feet are free of toxins and super relaxed is serious peace of mind, isn't it?

But because we're "why not go for it all" kind of girls, we went for the "Nirvana" experience. Forty minutes of foot massage and an hour full body massage. Idiots.

So after our feet were flimsied, we followed two men upstairs into a little room and lay down on massage tables. That's when the real pain began.

These men jabbed us with elbows. In our shoulder blades, backs, and butts. I tried to breathe through it and huffed heavily as this man poked, rubbed and prodded my left shoulder blade. I drooled through the face doughnut and prayed.

H grunted.

I yelled, "Ow!"

The man pressed hard on a superball sized knot in my back. My leg flew up in the air. He sat on it. Then he attacked my left arm. My fingers went numb in response. I huffed and puffed. He pressed on.

"Too hard!" I yelled.

H grunted.

The men kept on beating us. I stared at the carpet, tried to think happy thoughts and breathed like an obscene caller. The man shoved his elbow into my butt cheek.

"Uhhh!" I moaned.

He rubbed my tailbone. I don't think anybody has EVER rubbed my tailbone.

I felt violated. Yet I giggled at the insanity. Was this really happening?

He told me to roll over. I thought about running out of the room, but I obediently flipped over. And as that strange man massaged my inner thighs (WHAT?!?!) I wondered if this was legal. Just as I was about object, he shifted to my stomach and began to rearrange my organs. (At least that's what it felt like.)

When it was finally over, H looked like she'd been run over. My hair Chaka Kahned in every direction as we stumbled onto Sunset Boulevard.

We burst out laughing.

"All I could think that whole time was, 'when is this man going to stop hurting me?'" H said.

"I seriously feel like I've been beaten." I moved gingerly toward my car.

"But can you move your head?"

I slowly turned my head, all the way from right to left.

"Why yes, yes I can," I said.

"So was it worth it?"

That's debatable. My right butt cheek is bruised. There are small thumb prints around my left shoulder blade and the toes on my right foot are numb. But, I can move my head.

So people, we want to know, when is the pain worth it?

xoxo,
Suzanne