My massage therapist stole my chi

Massages are wonderful. They should make you feel wonderful. As a rule, they should make you feel better – not worse. Apparently, they can really suck though. Case-in-point:

Ryan went to Columbia Friday night, leaving The Nut and me (that sounded dirty, huh?) to a quiet, relaxing evening. In what I had titled, “Jentacular Friday Night Through Saturday Afternoon,” (catchy, I know – although for the record jentacular is an adjective describing breakfast, but I’ve reclaimed it as my own) I was to get a massage, watch girlie movies and Oprah, take a bubble bath, eat mint chocolate m&ms (my favorite!) and just generally be awesome doing everything I want to do.

So, Friday at 7 pm, I went in to get my massage. I was all excited, anticipating that Zen-like feeling you get post massage. I filled out my basic information – likes, dislikes – noting that I prefer a quiet massage therapist. I think it’s pretty safe to say that “Jessica” didn’t read the form.

She immediately started the massage by asking me numerous questions, few of which actually had to do with massage. Where was I from? Where did I go to high school? Did I have pets?

Yes, it was annoying. And, yes, it got worse.

She asked me why I came in for a massage. I explained that I really needed one after the stress of planning a wedding. She then went on to tell me a long, drawn-out story about how she almost got married once, but didn’t. Deaf to my uninterested uh-huhs, she continued, sucking me and my chi dry with every last bit of her insecurity. About half way through the massage, she finally shut up, but, alas, it was too late. I had lost it, and, at the time, I hadn’t even realized it.

When I got home, Tish called. She knew as soon as I started talking that something wasn’t right. “She stole your chi!” she declared. At first, I was like, no way…that’s not possible is it? But, then I got to thinking, and, yes, I really did feel like all my energy and spirit had been zapped out of me. There was no Zen, no nothing.

After Tish's hour-long pep talk to revive my chi, I started to get pissed. I did not buy a massage to listen to some women tell me that next time she’s going to marry a John Deere boy. No sir-ee. Nor, am I interested in the fact that I have “supple” calves. Dang it, that was my time and she should not have been running her mouth that much.

I’ve learned my lesson. Next time I get a massage, I’m getting a good referral from someone I trust beforehand. I’m also going to make it crystal clear that I don’t want idle chitchat, even if it takes telling the massage therapist during the massage that she needs to hush.

My chi is worth it!