Spa STRESS

/ roughwighting

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 spa.spa, 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.

Gone.

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.

 

24 thoughts on “Spa STRESS”

  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?

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  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!

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