Massages & Nirvana
i've been on a quest lately. specifically my quest has
revolved around my trying to find a cd which is apparently
harder to come by than any other.
sure i found it online (not that way), but i'm just allergic
to paying shipping for anything that weighs less than one of
my pet rats. so i had nothing left to do but to traverse
the destitute underworld known as the "second-hand" cd shop,
as apparently, the city which i live in is bereft of
wholesome first-hand cd outlets.
you'd think that after immersing myself no more than 3
minutes in one of those eccentric institutions i'd easily
come away with my prized possession.
i entered into used cd store after used cd store each
reminding me more and more of "High Fidelity" and every
employee in those stores perfectly emulating Jack Black's
character as if they were method actors.
after a few snide remarks ("We don't do Pop Rock") and
accussations ("If I don't know that band it must suck donkey
dick") i got to the desperate situation of giong into
magazine stores that had cds in their window.
so there i was in this magazine store which had lured me in
like a carp to a bait of maggots with three mildewy cd cases
sitting in its storefront. i picked up one of the three cds
with the dust meting itself onto my thumb, turning to the
only person who looked like he worked there, "this it?" he
gave me a dejected look and i figured i might as well move
to the back fo the store to make sure.
well as i walked through the store i perused the magazines
and what books they had. oddly enough it appeared to be
that the only topic this store in particular cared about was
gay and lesbian literature. i stopped in consternation as
my eyes happened upon a balding, stout man, holding an open
magazine which depicted various naked men splayed out in
various erotic positions.
he looked up and gave me a smile whcih i'm sure would be
cause for self-defense in some situations. that's what this
search had lured mem into, a gay sex store. and just so
that i'm not trying to perpetuate the myth that juliann
always complains about (that homosexuals are always depicted
as sex-crazed maniacs)...i'm confirming that "myth." i'll
be damned if at least 97.6% of that store wasn't sex related.
but on to more important things.
i was a half an hour away from my annual massage, in which i
try to let all of the stress from a year of law studying
soothingly melt away in one hour, and i was desperate to
find my cd.
i turned into the last cd store i could get to without
missing my appointment. i quickly glided towards the
"Assorted S" category as i was used to the artist whom i
wanted not having his own section.
i did a quick scan of the "Assorted S"...nothing. fuck. i
looked up with what must have been the saddest look in the
world as the pierced, purple-haired girl across from me in
the "Assorted Fs" said, "can't find whatcha want huh?"
i caressed the remaining listed artists, oh thou named
artists how you play with my heart! i snorted and went
through the listed artists, with that hope that i guess you
get when you know there really isn't any hope to have left.
and then just as i was about to give up and turn away i
noticed that my left hand had lingered on 1 cd at the front.
i looked down and my heart started racing. oh my god!
beige cover! no way...yes! yes!
there it was. a copy of
Sea Wolf's - Get to the River Before It Runs Too Low
i clutched it breathing heavily, my eyes flitting left and
right and that primordial drive which is situated within our
depths that our ancestors must have used when they found the
only life-sustaining fruit in the forest. that feeling that
you get when you know what you have is valuable, and that
for some reason, all others want to tear it from your grasp.
i clutched the cd quickly to my chest.
"Hm?!" i twitched towards the purple-haired, pierced girl
who was staring at me with what seemed bemusement.
i grunted something else and quickly shuffled to the cash
register screeching like a chimp and batting away any
competition that could stand in my way.
needless to say...i needed a massage. you see, once a year
i treat myself to a massage. i love massages, it may seem
fro fro but i don't give a fuck...cos it feels good. i
always insist on a woman masseuse too cos, although i'm no
homophobe, there's no way i can have as good a time if the
person who's "working my muscles with oil" has an adam's apple.
that being said i was introduced to an alternative problem.
the incredibly hot woman masseuse. i entered the massage
parlor still clutching the cd like a crack addict clings to
his last crack rock.
"you here for the 3 o'clock?"
mind was still clouded by the euphoria of the cd but it was
currently being supplanted by the young, buxom lady who was
handing me the release forms.
"Please fill these out and we'll be right with you."
although she was wearing "professional" masseuse clothing
(i.e. baggy clothing) it still managed to give me a good
estimate as to where she would land on a scale of 1 to 10 on
the scale of "hot or not."
i stood there with the forms in the middle of the waiting room,
"did she say 'we'll' be with you or 'i'll' be with you?
shit is she my mass..."
"sir, would you like to move out of the waiting room and
follow me to the quiet room?"
so far nothing effable had come out of my mouth. so as i
sat there starting to dread the problem of having her as my
masseuse i received a phone call from my bro.
so there i was chatting it up as good bros do, when this guy
with a scraggly beard leaned into the room and, with what i
thought was a bit too much condescension said to me,
"sir...this is the QUIET room." taping the beautiful
calligraphy next to the door which re-affirmed his point.
"there's no one else in here."
"yes...well, we just try to keep it quiet anyhow."
"thank you." i didn't like that thank you, it sounded so
superior...christ, masseuses i swear.
so the hot girl came back and took the paper. i swear to
god, every time she moved she acted like she grew angel
wings and glided, i don't think her KEDS actually touched
"are you knew to this, or do you know what to do?" she asked
with a kind smile.
i started freaking out.
i'm no virgin.
"no, no, I know what i'm doing...no prob." she gave me a
weird look, shrugged then said,
"samantha will be in shortly."
samantha was exactly what i could deal with, a kind mid-40s
lady with a new-age look.
these things you just don't think about that sometimes
create the weirdest situations...i swear. but this day has
ended in a great way as i sit here listining to "I Made a
Resolution" by Sea Wolf...oh so worth it!
Try a new drinks recipe site