Posted by: roughwighting | September 21, 2012


spa, relaxation, stress, mother/daughterI seize the opportunity to enjoy an afternoon at the spa to spiff up and stress down.

I succeed, sort of.

My visiting mother, always full of zip, is a bit reluctant, but my friend Dee urges us to take the time to R E L A X. So we arrive eagerly, quickly getting into the mood by wearing the spa’s over-sized plush robes as we sit in front of a warmed pool in the dazzling Sausalito sunshine.

We’re each called away by our trained de-stressors. Mom’s facialist is a warm Hawaiian woman who sooths her at ‘hellooooo.’ Dee expects a woman masseuse, so when a handsome young man leads her to her massage, I whisper, “just think 50 shades.” The shocked blush-red expression on my friend’s face starts me giggling, even as my massage begins– not the best way to let my muscles go limp. As strong fingers push open tight tender back muscles, my stomach bops up and down in suppressed laughter.

An hour later, warm lavender tea in front of a roaring fire as the fog swirls amidst the sun’s rays continues the amazing effects of a splendid afternoon at the spa.

Until we’re back in the car, coasting out of the driveway, and I think out loud, “Where’s my cell phone?”

My foot drops on the brake as my mind searches for the last time I used it.

Then I get a sinking feeling: “Oh NO!”

Just in case I’m wrong, I empty the contents of my purse and my book bag as Dee, sitting in the passenger seat, calls my phone on her cell. She figures if we hear the ring, we’ll find the phone.

Too late, we realize I’d turned the sound off while we were sedated and pacified at the, relaxation, stress

“I know where it is!!” I yell, blood pressure already rising, pupils dilating. “Don’t move!”

I jump out of the car and race up the long walkway back into the sweet peaceful spa.

“I need to get back in there,” I roar as gently as I can, pointing my finger toward the curtained rooms beyond.

The two tall lithe women behind the desks, the ones who dress in loose black silk and talk only in whispers, just stare at me as if they’ve never seen me before, then nod their heads. I suppose I look different than even 10 minutes earlier, when I’d floated out.

I try to walk, not run, to the elegant locker room, where we’d changed back to our ‘regular selves’ and plopped our spa bathrobes into big wicker baskets.


Not one used bathrobe in the room.

An attendant notices my wild eyes and directs me down a hallway to a well-hidden cleaning room. A man and a woman are sorting the bathrobes into HUGE bins for wash.

“I think I left my cell phone in the pocket of my robe,” I explain breathlessly.

The woman laughs (yes, laughs!) while nodding her head toward the pile of many, many thick cream robes. “That will be like finding a needle in a haystack,” she says.

“I’ll look in every pocket,” I exclaim, and the man slowly begins to look himself.  As my heart pounds, I ponder:  I have just wasted an aternoon’s worth of de-stressing.

But before I can even get to one pocket, the woman shouts, “You have good karma!” and yes, in her hand is my lifeline to the world (and all my contacts)– my cell phone.

I take a deep breath and smile as broadly as the California sun.

Ahhhh, a splendid day at the spa.



  1. Well, at least you were in a place that could quickly re-relax you.

    • There is that. :+) Actually, I was embarrassed to get stressed after deciding during that spa afternoon that really, we all must just relax more.

  2. That’s hysterical! Sooo calming. At least you got a funny story out of it.

    • I love to find the humor in life – makes it easier (and more fun!)

  3. Love this story. Sounds like something that would happen to me!

    • And you have a wonderful yogic, meditative quality about you. But darn, somehow things just don’t go as we plan, do they?

  4. I’m glad you found your cell phone and an amusing story before you unraveled too much of the de-stressing!

    • Exactly – I didn’t totally unravel (thus, I was able to laugh about it afterwards!) [Note, I said AFTERWARDS.] Ha.

  5. Great fun to read and I’m so glad there was a happy ending:-)

    • I’m one of those writers (and readers) who always needs a happy ending.

  6. LOVE the picture of you and your mom. That is a treasure.

    I HATE it when I lose my phone. isn’t it amazing how the panic is instant?

    • Thanks for enjoying the picture of my mom and me – she’s a cutie. And yes, I’m ashamed that I need my cell phone that much. :+0

  7. So glad you could de-stress again!
    My husband lost his wedding ring in a bin under a hand-dryer in a mens-room at work. The cleaner who emptied the bin found it and handed it in. How lucky was he?

  8. Laughing out loud, roughwighting! I always enjoy reading your posts so much. The way you roared…and your satisfaction as you walked back into the California sun. I do not believe an afternoon of de-stressing could be lost so quickly, though. It must have only been the surface of the ocean of roughwighting which rippled in a rough breeze. Namaste!

    • Thanks for the laugh…and the understanding. You’re right, the acute cell-phone-loss-stress was washed away quickly by my chronic wave-like ommming calm and contentment. :+)

  9. Think how stressed you would have been if you didn’t have the spa day first!? Glad you found it! :)

    • Absolutley, the massage helped me cope…to a point.

  10. Like that! I could empathize with the feeling even though my phone is always velcroed! Ha ha!

  11. So glad your story had a happy ending!

    • Ring a ding ding. Me too, although since this was my third attempt at losing my phone in a week, I believe my psych is telling me – ‘get off the phone!’ :+0

  12. Happy to hear you found your phone and didn’t get stressed for too long while you looked for it. Thanks for sharing your story! :)

    • Kind of a fun story to share, particularly since it ended well. Thank YOU for reading my blog!

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