As with just about every time we've moved over the years (about half a dozen times in the past five years), our moving out experience yesterday did not go nearly as smoothly as we had hoped. I won't complain about how much it sucked (it couldn't have sucked more if it were a Dyson), and I won't moan about how sore I am (although I'm more sore than a Craigslist Erotic Services worker on Two-For Tuesdays), but let's just say that I am not anxious to move again any time soon.
On the way home from our last trip to the storage unit, while trying to loosen up a muscle cramp in my calf, we passed a sign in front of this day spa and salon. They had a sign out front that was advertising massages for $25.00. I've never had a massage before, and even though I'm not cool with strangers touching me, with all my aches and pains and sore muscles, a massage sounded pretty appealing. I ultimately ruled it out, but not after giving it some thought.
If I were to ever get a massage, I think that laying down some ground rules would be important.
First off, let's acknowledge the white elephant in the room. You know, the whole erection thing. Sure, it's only natural that when a man is in a relaxed state and a woman is massaging deeply his abused and weary muscles, his body is going to interpret things a certain way. Even if the masseuse is a four-hundred pound woman with excruciatingly severe body odor and a mustache thicker than Burt Reynolds and you are the furthest away you've ever been to being turned on, your body is still likely going to do what it wants.
You can say all you want that it's a normal human function, but still. What's a guy to do with it, if the particular place one happens to be at doesn't offer the Happy Ending on their menu? Most of us guys have seen too many cheesy pornos or had too many hormone-enduced pubescent fantasies to really know what the proper protocol is in that situation. In my opinion, there are a few options to consider:
- Pretend that it's normal to have a raging hard-on in the middle of the day and ignore it completely,
- Sheepishly hide it under your towel and tuck it away as quickly as you can,
- Lay face down until the masseuse leaves the room, find some tissues and do what you do best,
- Stumble through an awkward apology for your protuberance and tip generously as you leave,
- Roll over onto your back and assume that she'll finish you off.
Secondly... well, wait a minute. No. There's only the erection thing.
There's way too much pride and embarrassment at stake, not to mention the potential for a criminal record for indecent exposure and propositioning, for me to even consider walking into a place and asking for a massage. I'll just have The Boss work me down, and maybe she'll throw in the Happy Ending in exchange for some reciprocation.
I think I'd be cool with that.
Happy Monday, folks.