It was a slow day yesterday at work, so I made an executive decision to play hooky. I had my new functional phone and could monitor email as necessary. And then I promptly forgot about my phone for hours at a time. It was lovely.
I visited a good friend of mine who has also had a difficult year. We commiserated and caught up since the last time we'd seen each other, a few months prior. We talked, laughed, and even teared up a little. Mostly we laughed.
Her husband was working nearby and said 'fuck this shit, I'm stressed.' So we all piled into their car and went for an Asian foot massage. Which also includes some neck and back. I was attired all wrong for this activity, but I went with the flow. I had on my lace-up boots and skinny jeans. Somehow even my racerback bra was wrong. And of course, my hair was in the way, and Massage Dude had to pull it up, twist it, and clip it. When he later went to remove the clip, he learned that hair clips and curly hair do not play well together.
It was quite an unusual experience. No one gets naked, except for your feet. Everyone is in one big, dark room, spaced abut three feet apart from each other. And many beefy Chinese men massage according to a schedule. I kept peeking during my time because it was fascinating. The masseurs clock-watched like mofos. Not sure if because of their schedule or because they wanted their day to end. At one point, I heard applause and wondered what the fuck was going on. Turned out it was massage noises. They punch and slap and really take it seriously.
Some douchebag in a red Porsche parked in front. In two spaces. And then worked on his phone the whole time instead of relaxing. I wanted to go back in and slap him, too. But I was too relaxed by then.
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