Things I Just Don't Get: Massages

Maybe this is a fat chick thing, but to me the idea of hell is getting naked or semi-naked in a room with a stranger, and then allowing that stranger to massage your fat bits around. Or even your not-so-fat bits. Either way, massages are just about the single worst idea ever invented, and the best part is this experience is meant to be relaxing.

And - and !! - they tend to involve tinkly music, various devices which reek of stinky stuff (eg oil burners, incense, or just the oil they use in the first place) and we all know how much I HATE stinky stuff and especially when paired with tinkly music. Either one of those on their own is bad enough, but paired they become totally unbearable.

Maybe this is a chef thing, whereby I think the ONLY things which should be massaged with oil are large joints of meat. Maybe it's because I think humans, while technically speaking are also large joints of meat, were never meant to be massaged in oil. Because the whole 'massaging in oil' thing is all about making meat taste better. This is a family blog. I'm NOT going there (but oh yeah, of course I did *think* about it, didn't I?).

I'm willing to concede that there are people (very odd people) out there who find massages relaxing. I'm even willing to give babies (who don't know better) and dogs (who also don't know better) a pass on this one, because we can't blame them for thinking it's a good idea. Hell, babies and dogs just love to be touched and they don't much care if there is tinkly music or not.

Seriously. I'm as touchy-feely as the next gal, but no way do I want to be pummelled and squished and prodded all around while laying face-first in a terry towel which heaps of other people have laid down on. And those tables just LOOK shonky, you know? Like as if I'm going to haul myself up there, maybe start to get into this whole thing and then a table leg will slowly give way. And of course I'll be slippery and whatnot, so I'll slowly and smoothly slide down to the ground in one of those "I saw it happening in slow motion but was powerless to do anything about it," moments. So then I'll find myself naked, going insane from the tinkly music, covered in sticky smelly oil, probably having lost my modesty towel somewhere on the descent, and humiliated because I need a hand up to get off the floor.

Thank you, but no. Massages are not for me.