Girls' night out

Last night was girls' night out. Sarah and I went to Massage Envy and had our first one-hour body massage ever. We got naked and had strange people run their hands over us and dig into our spines with their elbows.

She had Cassie and I had Eddie. I would have preferred that she had Eddie and I had Cassie. I saw Eddie with his brusque face and tattooed arm. No, I did not want Eddie. I did not want him in a chair. I did not want him anywhere.

Then the real Eddie appeared with his sweet face and a port wine birthmark the size of a dollar in front of his left ear. I followed Harmless Eddie down a low lit hall and into a private room where I took my clothes off while he "waited" outside the door. I slipped between the sheets and placed my head in the doughnut. Eddie returned and began kneading me.

What was he thinking?

"I hope I can keep throwing up in my mouth"?

"Her upper arm is larger than my waist"?

"At least she doesn't have hair on her back"?

"Except for that one stiff black one growing out of her shoulder."

Over active imagination at work during the whole hour: Who goes to work to record New Age music on the piano? Who is making those bird sounds? Is Eddie making faces at me behind my back?

No, Eddie is a nice kid from Texas who was trained at the Utah School of Massage Therapy, which I can see from my balcony. He finds knots I didn't know I had.

Sarah and I meet after the hour. She is jello. "I don't know if I can drive." She laughs.

We make our way back on the 101 in the dark, relaxed and happy.

I can't remember why I was worried about having a massage.