Overcaffeinated Ginger: 2012

I was pumped when I got an email notification that your spa was offering a daily deal of a manicure, pedicure, and massage for $60. Talk about a bargain! My friend Katherine and I purchased the deal and made appointments to enjoy ourselves yesterday afternoon. But I think there was a mix up. The fine print failed to mention that she and I would be receiving a couples massage in a room the size of my closet. I mean, Katherine is fantastic, but it was difficult to locate my inner peace while I could hear her getting lubed up four feet away.

I'm sorry that you were having a crap day. I am no stranger to the don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-light-you-on-fire days. But when I wake up on the wrong side of the bed, I make an effort not to treat my clients like flank steak. I tried the ol' tap out, "I give up" method, but you were in the zone. The zone of inflicting pain. I had no idea that elbow mashing was a certified massage technique. I would like to apologize for offering resistance when you tried to yank my head off of my neck. It took me by surprise - I have never had my ears used as handles before.

In my previous massage experience, there have been certain areas of the body that were universally recognized as off-limits. You did not get that memo. I'm afraid that the attention you directed at my gluteal region means we're dating. That's weird - I don't even know your name. The full-body washcloth wipe down was also a first. And hopefully the last for the category of "people who are not my husband and/or caretaker should I ever go on life support."

Hopefully you noticed that I tipped you as if I paid for the massage in full. If you did, I sincerely hope that you channeled any residual feeling of goodwill towards your next client and did not test the limits of his/her interstitial tissue resiliency.

Despite the chip on your shoulders that caused you to radiate hatred through your fingers (and elbows), I would like to say that you pulled off that lotion belt caddy - lube holster if you will - like a champ. Buffalo Bill would have been proud.