I love nothing better than a little pamper session, with a great neck and shoulder massage being my idea of heaven on earth, but as much as I wish this was a regular occurrence my ‘mom guilt’ prevents me from spending much money on myself or having the recommended ‘me time’, so this kind of goodness is, unfortunately, a treat strictly reserved for gift voucher redemption and charitable friends who have lost their ‘plus one’ to tragedies such as a golfing day or a bad case of Man ‘Flu. Hey, I’m definitely not complaining – their loss is my gain! The Husdabind, on the other hand, has never set foot inside a spa, so when I was gifted a couple’s spa treatment for my birthday (purchased by The Husdabind himself – can you say “hint hint”?) I was almost giddy with excitement, and filled with a childlike desire to prove to The manly Husdabind how great these places can be!
Fast forward 3 months and The Big Day finally arrived – it was time to get our massage on! Ever the conscientious client, The Husdabind was issued with strict instructions to shower beforehand and give his feet and back and extra good scrub to make sure that there was no toe-jam or ‘skin cell balls’ for the therapists to deal with, because eeeeeew! He thought I had lost my marbles, but diligently did as he was asked – he’s well trained like that.
It had taken 3 months to get an appointment with the establishment, and nobody that we spoke to had heard of this spa, but the good people of Google Reviews assured us that an out-of-body experience awaited us so we ventured forth with high hopes. I was going to coax The Husdabind into the metrosexual way of life yet, I could feel it in my bones!
We were underwhelmed when we arrived, bumping across the worn-away grass in what looked like somebody’s front yard which apparently also doubled up as the parking lot, but, not ones to judge a book by its cover, we dutifully went inside and signed the register that the sunglasses-clad, non-smiling receptionist presented to us and took a seat, panpipe music blaring, glitzy wallpaper glitzing.
20 minutes into our 90 minute appointment we were rescued from the awkward silence that we were sitting in (there was a big sign ordering complete silence) and ushered into the treatment room – at last! The moment of truth had arrived and I was so ready to be transported to Blissville, and even more excited to see what The Husdabind would think of so much touchy-feely activity.
I won’t bore you with the minute details, but we began with a whirlwind of a foot massage where I suspect the therapist may have been using one hand to text (perhaps her cat was home alone, bored, and being needy, who knows?), followed by a very jabby and swipey facial where the exfoliation technique threatened to take my whole face off and I lay there wondering if the therapist was mistaking my mug for a kitchen counter wipe-down (alarming). Perhaps these two experiences would have been somewhat improved had we been able to relax and enjoy them, but alas, the sounds of the kettle boiling somewhere in the immediate vicinity, the microwave beeping, and the sound of the supermarket-purchased products clicking open and shut next to our ears were a bit too distracting.
Unfortunately I couldn’t see my polite, quiet natured, first-time-spa-goer Husdabind over the tray of products between us, but I was highly amused imaging what he was thinking of all of this going on around him – it was enough to give me the giggles, and you know what happens when you try to suppress those – they just get worse! Thankfully just at that moment my therapist launched into a fantastically redeeming Indian Head Massage, followed by a full body Swedish Massage that sent me drifting off to sleep (literally, I even started to dream that I was a motor mechanic. Don’t ask.)
Afterwards, sitting on a veranda-with-a-view sipping on coffee and eating the tiniest chocolate muffin I have ever seen, we swapped notes. Here is what we learned:
- The Husbabind was most alarmed by the hair yanking involved in an Indian head Massage and will sell his left nostril in order to avoid one in future, should it ever come to that;
- When venturing into the unknown, set your expectations to their lowest setting, and remember to pack your sense of humor;
- Do not try to impress The Husdabind with something you have never tried yourself, it may backfire;
- Viciously swiping, kitchen counter cleaning techniques, when used on a human face, produce glowing, hydrated, fine wrinkles-free skin! Who knew?!?!;
Thank you, unnamed spa, for a quirky and unexpected afternoon of entertainment! We will not be returning, but we will certainly remember you with fondness and a cheeky glint in our eyes for years to come!
P.S. Perhaps I spoke too soon… can I please book another swipey, baby-glow facial? A week with my kids and my wrinkles are starting to return. The Husdabind has agreed to drop me off on his way to golf.