ok. where was I? oh yeah. at the paraffin treatment.
So after she got through learning her numbers on my back, arms and lower legs, She left me momentarily to grab the paraffin, whatever that was. Now ladies, I know you'll understand me when I say I was a little uncomfortable waiting on a foldable table half nekked, with just a sheet on in too-bright lighting.
So she comes back with four long plastic bags half-filled with pink goo. Think Ghostbusters 2, and the bath tub. I couldn't bathe for a week after seeing that movie, mind you I was only 5, but still, little creeped out when I saw those bags. I swear for a moment there, I was holding my breath to hear a disembodied Vincent Price-like Cackle. But no dice.
So she proceeds to put my hands and feet into the pink goo, squooshing it around some to make sure the wax hit every corner of my extremities, and then tying up the plastic bag like a tourniquet, and then pulling on a white lobster mitt over the whole mess. when she was done this process I'm sure I looked like some kind of rag-doll, with the nosn-descript hands and feet. Sure felt like it. So, then she gave instruction to 'relax, have a quick snooze, it'll take about 15 minutes to set, and then I'll be back.'
and what did she mean by letting it set? that sounds like cement! will I not be able to move my hands? how will she get this shit off? with a mini jack-hammer? belt sander? where was she when I had all these questions going through my head? gone of course. scarpered off while I was contemplating the probability of amputation.
So three minutes into my sentence, and I find that I can still move my fingers and toes a little, having been frantically wiggling them to see if I still had feeling in them. I did. So I calmed down a little, and found myself giggling over my hypochondriatic situation.
Minute 7. My inner ear started to itch. Followed by my right nostril. Lucky for me, I can't move my hands anymore, due to me stupidly trusting the goo and backing off on the wiggling, not too mention that those stupid mitts had no sharpish corners into which I could dig into either orifice to my hearts content. As the itching grew worse, I found myself rubbing my head on anything I could find, pillow, blanket, shoulder, feeling like a retard and wondering if they had a camera set up in the room specifically meant for taping this type of thing. Candid camera or whatnot. piss me off.
Minute 13.? finally get rid of the itching in my ear, can deal with the nose itch now, feeling mighty tired after all that exercise, and I find my eyes closing on their own, despite my anger.
Not even 30 seconds later, my torturer shows up at the door, cryptic smile on her face, approving of how I did get a quick nap in after all.
So, all in all, not the most relaxing experience, but certainly one of the most entertaining and challenging ones I'm sure I'll have in my lifetime.
p.s. is it a new standard procedure to wear latex gloves when giving a massage, or did my massager just have a fetish? hmmm....