Just once I want to go to the esthiologist and have her say "Good job. No extractions necessary." That day was not today. I needed a few extractions on my nose, which I expected, but still. Despite my flaws, the facial was exceptional and I left for my massage all aglow and looking 20 years younger. Okay, maybe 20 minutes younger, but who's counting?
The massage was another story all together. When I scheduled the appointment, I asked for a good deep tissue therapist, but got Joanna instead. Joanna not only was making it up as she went, she talked and talked and talked and talked and talked and talked and talked. It didn't matter that I just quit responding or that I indicated I would really just like to relax and not say much. Typically, I'm much more direct, but she indicated very early on that after 30 years of bad jobs she had now found her true calling and was doing her dream job, and I just couldn't find the courage to say "Excuse me, but could you shut your pie hole?" I know every job she's had, how old her kids are, what they're doing, every town they've lived in AND why she became a massage therapist. Why, you ask? To meet all kinds of nice people. Actually, Joanna, you, in particular, don't really meet people. They meet you.
After my massage, I went to the place where all your troubles just melt away- Super Target- and now I'm all better. The end.