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Leslie N Martin

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Member Since: Jul, 2008

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My Spa Day...I am a mental patient
By Leslie N Martin
Monday, July 07, 2008

Rated "R" by the Author.

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See what happens when I non-spa loving woman gets a spa day as a gift.

My day at the spa... I am a mental patient!!!!!!!

My husband did a wonderful thing and bought me an expensive day at a spa to celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary last Friday. I, being the complete and utter moronic, dork that I am, could of course NOT just accept and enjoy it like most women would. This is how it went down…

I get the e-mail with the gift certificate from the spa. I'm totally stoked….He remembered! He remembered the news story we watched the other night about the new cellulite treatment.

Excellent! That's exactly what I wanted. I'm getting cellulite treatment for my anniversary! Hey, celebrate how you want. It's MY anniversary.

The e-mail gives an address and I realize it is not in the same town as the cellulite place from the news story; but hey maybe they have multiple locations.
I'll call to make sure.

I call the place and find out it is not the cellulite place but a regular day spa.
Bummer. I wanted the cellulite treatment.

I tell the woman that I think my husband got confused and meant to get me a cellulite treatment that we saw on the news and ask if that had been his intention would he be able to get his money back. The woman, seeming confused, says "yes just have him call to cancel if need be".

After thanking her, I call my husband to see if my suspicions were correct. I tell him I got the e-mail, thank him and then ask if he had meant to get me the cellulite treatment we saw on the news. I can tell immediately from his hesitation he hadn't.

Damn! I screwed up his present. But I'm not a spa day kind of girl and I wanted the cellulite treatment.

I debate weather or not to tell him and decide that I should. Not meaning to seem ungrateful but for the money he spent I'm thinking it should be something with some actual benefits. Yeah I'm a Virgo.

After a bit of an awkward conversation he tells me that it's my present he wants me to be happy and to get what I want. Awwww. Yeah!!!!

We hang up, I call the spa and cancel and then call the cellulite clinic to set up my appointment. Woo Hoo!!!! Cottage cheese you are history!

When the person from the clinic answers the phone I am so excited I can hardly contain myself. I launch into this ramble about how I saw the story on the news the other day and how excited I was to see a treatment that actually works and ask if it is true what the story said that each treatment is only $75.00.

The man calmly tells me that he is very glad that I saw and enjoyed the story and that yes indeed each treatment is a mere $75.00. He then tells me that the treatments are broken down into areas. Each section of buttocks is considered a separate treatment, and the thighs are sectioned in fourths. He then asks what I would like to have done.

WHAT THE HELL!?!? Each section of the butt is considered separate?

Me: "Are you kidding me!?!? Each side of the butt is charged separately to treat!?!?"

Man: "Yes Ma'am."

Me: "But I only have one ass."

Man: "Yes Ma'am but it has two sections."

Me: "So to get my entire ass done one time it's two treatments?"

Man: "Yes Ma'am."

Me: "So to get both my legs and my WHOLE ass done it would be 6 treatments the first time at $75.00 a pop?"

Man: "Yes Ma'am."

Me: "That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! Who the hell gets one butt cheek and half a leg done?"

Man: "People come in for a variety of treatments Ma'am."

Me: "That's just silly. Never mind."

I hang up.

Yes, I realize I'm the yelling bitchy woman at that point but (no pun intended) come on, half a butt cheek!?!

So I call the original spa back and uncancel my appointment. Then ask the woman what services had originally been set up for me. She tells me that my husband had left it up to me to choose and then asks what type of things that I like.

Me: "Okay here's the thing, I don't want to be touched or wrapped in goo. Besides not wanting to be touched, I'm too ticklish for massages. So with that in mind what do you have?"

Part II My day at the spa continued.... I'm all wet!


After a ridiculous "who's on first" kind of conversation with the spa's representative trying to find services that don't involve physical contact or the application of goo, I found my treatments. I decided on an herbal bath (should be ok), a botanical shirk wrap, supposed to shirk inches off the body while being beneficial to the skin with minimal contact and goo, and a basic facial (there is touching but it's the face and I'm ok with that).

The appointment was set for noon the next day, before our anniversary dinner. Everything was good.

So that I could relax and not do anything that day, my husband planned to drive me to the spa and take the kids to the mall to get them out of the house. In theory a great idea; but as any of you with kids will attest, a car ride with two boys can be a complete nightmare, which it was.

The car ride consisted of thirty minutes of screaming, slapping, whining and various things being thrown around the back seat. Add all this to the traffic on the highway and you have the exact perfect conditions to set off the beginnings of a panic attack.
Breath Leslie it will be okay.

We get to the spa, I go inside, sign in and explain to the woman at the desk, who has no knowledge of my appointment (UGH) what I have come to do.

After scrambling around trying to find my information she finally leaves to go get the person assigned to me for my day of leisure. She returns with this little Asian woman who directs me to follow her to a room for my first service…the herbal bath.

I go into a dimly lit room with a message table in the center and a huge Jacuzzi bath and candles lit all around. The woman tells me that I can put my clothes on the hanger where there is a robe hanging on the wall next to the bath or put them on the side of the tub. She then explains the two buttons for the Jacuzzi jets and says that she will come and get me when it's time for my next services.

I start to undress. As I'm pulling off my shirt the woman opens up the door, scaring the living daylights out of me, and asks if I'd like something to drink. SHIT! No and get the hell out and close the door! Anyone walking down the hall can see me!

"No thank you," is what I actually said.

(Now let me explain something about myself. I have a HUGE hang up with public nudity. Even before I had kids and the stretch marked dunlap from hell. I have never been skinny dipping. I was always the one who sat on the side of the pool, beach or lake and watched everyone's clothes and kept an eye out for the cops. I have also never ever flashed anyone. The thought of Mardi-Gras and boobies for beads makes me ill just to think about it. )

So I'm now standing in this room, freaking out in my head, at the thought of getting naked and into this bath tub in a place where A) someone could walk into the room at any moment, and B) other people have sat with their naked rear ends. Ugh I think I'm going to be sick. Breath Leslie, it will be okay.

I finish getting undressed and climb up onto the side of the tub, which is enormously deep. As I go to step down into the tub I realize that the water is way too hot. I try to back out of the tub, planning to adjust the temperature before getting in and slip completely down into the scalding hot water.
HOLY CRAP! I'm boiling myself!

The tub is so high, and now wet, it is impossible to climb out of. I scramble over to the other end of the tub to try and adjust the water as fast as I can. There are no temperature indicators on the knobs.
Holy shit this is hot. Which one is which!?!?

I turn one knob all the way in one direction…Wrong knob! I had turned the cold water completely off and now I'm getting a rush of even more boiling hot water into the tub. FUCK!

I turn the other knob completely off and am finally able to hoist my naked butt out of the scorching water and then turn on only the cold water faucet.


Sitting on the side of the tub, curled up in a ball, on fire, I start thinking about all the other people's naked rears that have sat on the side of the tub. I was in so much pain from the scalding water I couldn't even care.

After a few minutes I test the water and it's at a tolerable temperature so I slide back in. Ah, much better.

Sitting in the water I am glad to see that my nakedness is completely covered by water. The dimly lit room and the dark blue porcelain were the perfect camouflage to my dark nudity.

I settle down to relax in the tub and realize the aroma therapy is starting to make me a little queasy.

(Something else you need to know about me to appreciate this is the fact that I have a hyper sensitive sense of smell. I can smell a cat fart from two floors away. There are certain stores in the mall that I can't even walk past on the same side of the isle let alone go inside.)


 I don't feel so good.

I start to look around the tub to see if any of the surrounding candles is scented so that I can blow it out. While moving around in the tub I somehow accidentally slid the rubber drain plug out of place and the water starts to drain from the tub, without me noticing.

Now, when you let the water level get too low in a Jacuzzi the blower jets exposed to the air will spray water upwards instead of around the tub/pool. So now water is spraying me straight in the face as I scramble to try and find the drain plug to replace it. OH MY GOD this is like a naked episode of I Love Lucy!

While I'm searching the tub for the drain, being sprayed in the face with hot water, the door opens. It's the little Asian woman.

Woman: "Can I get you anything?"

Me: (Freezing stock still being sprayed in the face.) "No I'm fine. I just seemed to have lost the drain plug but I'll find it."

Woman: "Okay."

And she shuts the door.

I turn off the jets and finally find the drain pug and replace it, but now the tub is half empty. So I turn the water back on to fill the tub and lay back.
Yeah this is relaxing.

The longer I sat in the tub the more nauseous from the aroma therapy I became. It got to the point that I started to get really dizzy. Okay, I've got to get out of here.

I pull the drain and start to pull myself out of the tub. As I try to stand up I become really light headed and dizzy. Oh crap, I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out here naked in this bathroom and people are going to find me like this.

I now go into full blown panic attack at this thought and start to hyperventilate. With the room beginning to spin I grab a towel and wrap it around me and sit down on the side of the tub with my feet dangling trying to get my head together. I tried several times to stand up but my hands and legs were shaking so badly that I didn't dare.


I must have sat, wrapped in a towel for a good 15 minutes just trying to breathe until the Asian woman came back into the room.

Woman: "You're already out."

Me: (Wearing the weakest smile ever seen on the planet and trembling.) "Yeah I got a little dizzy so I got out."

Woman: "You ready for your next treatment."

Me: (Weakly.) "Sure."

I finally step down onto the floor, grab the robe hanging on the wall and wrap in around me, thinking "would you please leave" the entire time.


I grab my clothes and follow the woman out the door for my next treatment.



Part III Spa Day...Wrap Up

The Asian woman takes me into another room for my shrink wrap treatment.

She hands me a small package and says that I should put on the disposable underwear inside and I can put on my bra as well if I'd like and then leaves the room. I am so not liking this.

I open the package she handed me. Inside is a small strip of black plastic burlap connected by a white stretchy band. You have got to be kidding me! There is no way this is going to fit over my black behind!

Like I thought it would, it took me what seemed like forever to try and forcibly maneuver the thing over my rear end.  The band wouldn't fit around my waist, because of my post pregnancy belly issues. So it sat like a pair of low riders cutting off the circulation under my belly (because I also have no hips). AND because I couldn't pull the damn diaper strip thingy up high enough, it hung down like I was carry a load in the back. This is attractive.

After finally adjusting the thing enough so that it actually covered my butt crack, I turned around to put my bra back on and the door flew open. Damn it, would you please stop doing that!

The Asian woman stood in the door way smiling at me, with the door still open, as I tried to modestly put my strapless bra back on without taking off my robe so that no one walking by would see me.
OH MY GOD, shoot me now. At least the loin cloth is black and goes with my bra. UGH!

I finally finished fumbling with my bra, closed my robe, turned around and asked, "So what's next?"

The woman tells me that she is going to wrap me in mineral soaked gauze, which is designed to shrink inches. She then tells me that usually people getting this service get measured before hand and after so that they can see the results. Sure why not. I haven't been humiliated enough. Why not a bit more?

I agreed and she tells me to take off my robe. As I took off the robe I had a flash from the movie Fame. I felt like Coco being told to take her top down by the photographer. I didn't cry but I felt just as humiliated.

As I stood in front of the door in my burlap and Victoria Secret ensemble, spread eagle, looking down my stretch marked belly at this little woman kneeling in front of me with a tape measure, my normal survival mode kicked in. I began babbling rapid fire about what was going on. Deflecting my discomfort the best I could with humor, cause that's how I roll.

By the time the woman got to the gauze I had her laughing hysterically and understanding my nutty bucket discomfort. I felt a little better as she wrapped me like a mummy in bandages soaked in some sort of tingly, smelly stuff. Hey at least it's not sticky or gooey. It could be worse.

When the woman finished bandaging me she directed me to get onto the massage table in the center of the room.
How the hell am I supposed to do that? My legs won't bend.

I did a kind of protractoresque Gumby stick person walk across the room. I then leaned off to one side to get my leg up on the stool in front of the table. I did the same on the other side balancing on the stool to get the other leg up. I finally did a very attractive flying fish flop with my whole body onto the table and rolled to the center. Okay, who the hell thinks this stuff up?

Once on the table the woman covers me in this silver warming blanket and prepares to do my facial. I look and feel like a baked potato wrapped in cheese cloth and tin foil.
Anyone got any butter?

The facial wasn't too bad I guess. Actually, I don't really know. I think I had finally gone numb by the time the woman started rubbing on my face.

Sometime in the middle of the facial the woman turned on a steam machine, she said was "to open my pores" and then left the room. I laid there trying to relax, sweating in my cheese cloth with the steam blowing straight up my nose which made it difficult to breathe. All I could think was, "It's almost over", over and over like a Mantra in my head.

When she came back into the room I turned my head and looked at her… She busted out laughing.

Me: "What?"

Woman: "You’re supposed to be sleeping."

Me: "I am? Oh sorry I didn't know."

Woman: "You hate this don't you?"

Me: "Yeah, kind of."

The woman finished the facial by putting some sort of mud mask on my face which dried and then she washed it off. When that was done I was finally able to stop roasting under the tin foil blanket, roll off the table and get unwrapped.

I tried my best to have a “self induced by humorous babble out of body experience” as the woman took off the gauze, exposing my delightful spa undergarments to be measured again to get the results of my shrink wrap. According to her I lost 17 total inches. Okay, great now would you please leave so that I can get dressed.

After the woman left the room I finally put my clothing back on. THAT was the most relaxing thing I felt all day.

For some reason as I started to leave the room I turned back around and looked at myself in the mirror. Thank God I did. The woman had left large strips of the white mud mask under my nose on my chin and in several other places on my face.

I mom washed the mud off my face (spit and a finger), called my husband to come get me and went into the lobby.

While I waited for the hubby and kids to come get me I sat with the spa workers laughing at how much I hated the entire experience. They were all really cool, even though they agreed I was totally nuts.

On the way home the kids said that they were hungry so we took them to get something to eat. We stopped at, I believe, the nastiest McDonalds I have ever been in. The place was dirty, had hordes of flies and other insects flying all over the restaurant and to top it off, no one spoke English.

My oldest got the wrong order and it took 15 minutes and me getting a bit nasty, while watching them prepare his food, to get what he ordered. I got fed up after about 10 minutes of swatting bugs in between bites of salad and finally said I had had enough and we left.

On the way home I noticed that whatever product my wrap had been made of, it had sucked all the moisture out of my skin and had bleached parts of me in a wrap pattern. Black skin - (minus) moisture = ASHY! I was drying out like a raisin the longer we drove.

As soon as we got home I grabbed my car keys and told everyone I was taking myself to Wal-mart to get my nails done. My Wal-mart Asians, they know what to do. Minimal touching with oils and callus remover; they even know not to turn on the message chair cause I'm so ticklish.

I went to Wal-mart and relaxed, fully clothed, people watching and got a French manicure.

The day wasn't a total disaster. We ended the day with a great meal, with good friends and great wine being treated like rock stars at our favorite restaurant (Texas De Brazil) where I had gotten my husband a humidor locker and a life time membership as his anniversary present.

My husband did ask me if I enjoyed my gift. I told him "yes", with as much, I really did appreciate the thoughtfulness and sentiment behind the gift but please don't ever get that for me again, in my voice as I possible could.

I'll have to wait 'til next year to see if I succeeded.


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Reviewed by Regis Auffray 7/7/2008
I appreciate your sense of humor, Leslie. You have me smiling and laughing. Thank you. Love and best wishes,


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