Saturday, March 7, 2009

Pride and Portliness

This is probably going to sound incredibly self indulgent.

Because of muscle spasms I get that can knock me off my feet, wake me up at night and sometimes make it impossible to get out of bed in the morning, I go for a massage about once a week or so.

ACK! I can hear you all now, ‘cry me a river’, ‘you poor thing’, ‘well aren’t you special’, all dripping with sarcasm. But it isn’t like it sounds.

First of all, I go to a chain spa with discounted prices. I am a member, so that reduces the price even more. It is not a fancy place, just a simple set up. I have only been going since I started my new job in July. And, finally, there is never a minute that I don’t fully appreciate how lucky I am to have both the time and the money to do this.

Believe it or not, I don’t even enjoy it that much. It takes time, I have to get naked, it is usually a different therapist each time and everyone is has a different technique. I mean it feels ok, but it is all about relieving the pain for me.

I went tonight and it is a therapist I have never met before. A really sweet young girl. She tells me she read my chart and asks if there is anything special I need. I tell her no, I just can’t have any pressure on my lower back at all. She says, “OK. Do you need a towel for your chest?”

Excuse me??????????

No one has ever asked me this question before, so I am confused and don’t know how to answer. Because I am a mental case, I want to get the answer right. God forbid the massage therapist thinks I am stupid. I think about my chest. It’s under me when I am lying face down and it is under the sheet when I am lying on my back, so when would I use the towel? I’m running the possibilities through my head like a Rolodex. I am tempted to check my chest for moisture that perhaps she can see but I can’t feel. However, I am reluctant to feel myself up in front of a stranger.

I briefly consider bluffing my way out of it, but decide to just fess up. “My chest…?”

She replies, “Yes, because, you know…”

Um, no, actually I don’t. But I am starting to sweat, because I didn’t know there was going to be a test .

She continues, “….some women are more comfortable when there is a towel around their chest when they are lying down.”

Behind the Jeopardy theme music playing in my head, a light bulb is starting to go off. “Yikes!” I say to her, “Don’t tell me it’s written somewhere I have big boobs!” and I gave a nervous laugh like, they wouldn’t, would they?!?!

“Oh no!” she chuckles, as if that is the most preposterous thing in the world, and I start to breathe a sigh of relief.

“It just says ‘top heavy’.”

Oh. My. God.

I can feel my face get hot and I want the floor to swallow me and my apparently freakishly enormous bosom. But that doesn’t happen. The floor stays solid. I don’t disappear into oblivion as I want to do. And now I have to take my clothes off and unleash the Breasts That Swallowed Pittsburgh.

Once I am lying on the table with my face in the little cradle, the tears start. Fortunately, they drip right through the opening unnoticed. I am so embarrassed I just want to go home and curl up under the covers. Better yet, under the bed. Even better still, under the floor boards.

Shit, just dig a hole and bury me.

Two things occur to me:

1) I apparently am way too prideful and need continual lessons in humility.

2) Maybe hanging onto this memory I will finally lose weight.


Webster said...

I don't know what size you are, but I am a 38DD, which when unsupported are a 38Long, and I am a former massage therapist. Believe me when I tell you I've seen boobs like mine and boobs like yours and even no boobs at all (and not just on men). I believe that the note "top heavy" may have been due to your location (e.g. a gym membership) warning the masseurs.

Marie said...

Gee Webster, I didn't know you were a massage therapist! Did you like it? My sister is just finishing up a massage therapy course. It seems like hard work to me.

Thanks for your response. There is no way I am going to reveal my size!!! You are way braver than me!!! 38 long. You are too funny.

So you are telling me that note was warning them that I was a VIP, not Two Ton Tillie? You are so sweet.

I will totally buy that. Whether it is true or not. lol

Sheila said...

Or that you have remarkably slim hips?

Marie said...

Ah, Sheila, a big virtual hug to you for that one!!! lol

Da Old Man said...

Now you know we need pictures.

Marie said...

Hey, that was the cleanest illustration I could find. This is a family blog!

Am I going to have to change your name to Dirty Old Man?


Actually, now that I think of it, among my aunt's pics at my son's wedding there is a picture of my cleavage that is pretty frightening. And it is my cleavage behind about five empty martini glasses on the table. Glasses that I personally emptied.

I don't have a digital image of it, thank the Lord. My aunt's snaps of wedding guests are actionable. Every one is blackmail material. lol

Susan Helene Gottfried said...

I'd love to go to my masseur weekly. (Yep, I go to the same guy. Can't you make a standing appointment with the same therapist?)

Don't worry about the top heavy comment; I'm a reduced C and my therapist puts rolled-up towels under my shoulders when I'm on my belly. He's the first therapist who ever has and it's really a LOT more comfortable; your breasts aren't holding you up.

Marie said...

Susan, thanks. I wouldn't worry about the top heavy comment at all...IF IT WERE ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE!!! lol

But that is good advice about the rolled up towels. I am definitely going to take advantage of it so The Girls are less squished. :)