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Pits of Despair

November 28, 2010

Earlier this morning, I went for an 80min swedish massage.  I had one last week too not because I’ve been on a pampering kick but because I seriously screwed up my back.  The massage was just a bonus from said screw-up but for real, I was in major pain for nearly a month.  An upside to the pain was being able to take Robaxacet – or as it’s now known, Robax – if the pain got really bad.  I’ve never taken a muscle relaxant before and let me just say that it’s pretty awesome.  Not in a buzzy druggy sort of way but in a knock you out and you have no idea what’s going on sort of way.  Just the way I like it.

Now, whenever I have some kind of pampering done whether that be pedicure, massage or whatever, I have this weird thing where I have to make sure that the area which the person is going to service is prepared and by that, I mean hair free.  I’m sure there’s nothing worse than to have to run your hand up a stubbly leg or see  unsightly hair.  I’m pretty sure that watercooler chit chat among spa staff often involve topics such as hairy, smelly, gross, slimy, sweaty clients etc., and I certainly don’t want to fall into one of those categories but today, I just might have.

In my rush to get everything done before we started our day, I forgot to clear my pits and by clear, I mean groom.  Actually, that’s not entirely true; I forgot to clear one of my pits because I did one yesterday, got distracted by something else and forgot to complete the job.  So yes, I did not follow my cardinal rule and only remembered after I was lying on my stomach and after I told the RMT to work on my shoulders and back.  I asked him to turn the lights off but who was I kidding; I had about 2 weeks worth of growth under there and I was embarrassed as shit.  I was certain that he could see it and he even went so far to place his hand in my pits to loosen the muscles in my shoulder so that didn’t help my embarrassment.  He kept on telling  me to relax because I kept on cringing every time he tried to raise my arms.  I wanted to say:  don’t look at me, I’m hideous! but I was too embarrassed to say anything or apologize.  I don’t have a lot of hair in my pits but the problem is that it can grow long; sort of like a mini Fu Man Chu peeking out from under there.

There are two RMTs I usually see:  Sergiy or Eric.  If it were Sergiy, I wouldn’t have minded so much because he’s European and I’m pretty sure women with hairy pits are the norm in most European countries.  Eric is younger, from Toronto so I don’t doubt that he filed me and my pits under the “gross” category in his brain.  I could barely even look at him when he was done and hurried past him to the change room so I could get the hell out of there.

Oh and before I forget, did you enter my Cheeky Monkey and other wicked stuff giveaway?  if not, click here!  Seriously, the swag you get is pretty awesome if I say so myself.  Good luck!

2 Comments leave one →
  1. December 1, 2010 10:14 pm

    LMAO!!! you’re hilarious!!! but seriousl, i don’t think you have anything to worry about. RMTs have probably learned how to tune that sh!t out and not even notice it! kinda like gynecologists… 😛

    • December 2, 2010 8:01 am

      that’s what I thought too but according to Cosmo, they gossip about that! eeek! 😀

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