So we left home for a 6 hour trip to Hull, where the spa was located. We were booked in for the following day and we decided to spend the day visiting some of our old haunts. We went and found a Vietnamese restaurant (it seems the more unassuming they are, the better the food) in a small neighborhood just 8 blocks or so from parliament hill. The weather was nice and we enjoyed a romantic evening.
The following morning came way too fast and before I knew it it was time to get ready for the rest of the drive, and of course my date with the cute massage girl. We ordered some room service and got our stuff together. We ate and checked out.
*** Naïve Jim Thought #1: “This might be pretty cool, a little back rub, then we’ll hit the road, relaxed and ready for the drive.”
We arrived at the Hilton where the spa was located. Talk about swanky! I felt slightly out of place with my shorts and flip flops, there were well dressed women everywhere, all with Gucci hand bags and luggage, and gold everywhere. I was starting to think maybe I was out of my element. Wife was well dressed as usual, and made me look like maybe she had picked me up in the parking lot and was working on an act of humanitarian kindness.
We found our way down to the spa, and lined up with the other 8 people there for treatments. Not a man to be seen. There were mostly middle aged women with their mothers or daughters, going for a day of relaxation. We “checked in, and they handed us slippers and bathrobes and asked us to change into them, and proceed to the waiting room. We went into our own little change rooms to get ready.
***Naïve Jim Thought #2: “Now, when they say get undressed, do they mean all of it? I guess it’s like the doctors or something, ah well!”
So I put my robe on and realized that I had best watch the lower placement of my robe, it was a little short and showed a lot of thigh. I locked my things away and walked into the waiting room. The room was filled with day beds and there were about 10 women waiting, sipping coffee and eating fruit. I was directed to a daybed when I realized I had best re-think my choice of non-derwear.
***Naïve Jim thought #3: “Shit, I had better put the mouse back in the house or these ladies are gonna get more than a face wash”
I hurried down the hall and got my boxers back out of my locker, and headed back to the Waiting room.
Right on the hour a door opened and the first masseus called her “patient” and they headed down the hall. Then the second cute little lady grabbed her patient. My anticipation was building because these ladies are getting cuter and cuter. The next ones left one after another, there were 4 of us left when a guy showed up at the door. He was a little fella with scrawny arms and a swagger that suggested he was a little light in the loafers.
***Naïve Jim Thought #4: “Hmm that’s odd, I don’t suppose there are a lot of gay male massage therapists, he must be a rarity!”
He walked out with his lady, relief! The next girl came to claim her patient and finally another. Wife and I were alone in the waiting room, and I had a little bit of an uneasy feeling.
The door opens and in peered a 210 pound, hairy, mouth breathing gorilla, smiling ear to ear. Misssster and Misssses Jim?
***Shattered Jim Thought #1: “He had better be here for her.”
With just the slightest bit of optimism left I wondered if there was a 100 pound girl behind him waiting for us.
Behind the gorilla was the other massager.
I have named him “Hanz”. Hanz was a 200 pound 5’8” biker looking fella, who was lighter in the loafers than any of the girls that had come through here previously. Wife later informed me that while I was clenching my teeth and turning into my 50th shade of purple, she saw them exchange a look that could only mean they were “special friends”.
Now I’m not really homophobic, I mean I have known guys who putted from the rough, and it was fine by me, as long as they kept their hands to themselves (the same as I would with anyone but my wife :-)). Well that was out the window, I was about to be touched.
***Shattered Jim thought #2: “Thank christ I put my underwear back on, I think I'm going to shit myself”.
Tommorow’s post “Hanz’s Hands – The Honeymoon Spa Day debacle - Part Three.
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