It had been nearly six months since my friend and massage therapist had gone on to "greener" pastures. My regular sessions had come to an end. I had managed to squeeze in two random massages through the big-box spas again hoping for lightning to strike twice. But my schedule and finances prevented me from getting a regular monthly massage again.
The first one was unremarkable. There was no chemistry. The girl was actually chatty, but she really spent the entire massage talking about herself. I was all about learning about some of these women, but it would have been nice to get some attention too. Besides, the massage itself was lackluster.
The second was nearly the same. Different therapist; same shit. And frankly, neither of them was especially attractive. I don't want to be a snob, but a good-looking woman touching your naked body is a bonus.
Once again, I was beginning to think I would have to give up on my massages - or maybe try out one of those Asian spas. But I didn't want to get arrested for solicitation - which seemed a real possibility in those questionable establishments. And the massages weren't real there anyway. I still needed my physical therapy.
I got a gift card for Christmas from my wife, so I thought I'd try one more time. I found a day spa that offered more than just massages. They also did cosmetology, hair, and the traditional things that let you know that the place is legit. As before, I requested a female. Ella was available. You can't judge by a name so I didn't know what to expect.
I was sore so I was simply looking forward to a reasonable massage - no expectations. As I walked in and spoke to the receptionist, Ella came out from the back to greet me. Ella was a thin, black girl that appeared to be in her mid-20s. She was attractive, but I have never been especially taken with exotic women. Maybe it's my Midwest upbringing, but I liked those corn-fed Caucasian girls better - that's why I married one. I had dated a couple of ethnic girls in high-school and college, but we never seemed to click culturally and that, as much as anything else, sort of jaded me on the dark skin and brown eyes.
But almost with the first words out of her mouth, my opinion started to change. There was almost no hint of an accent, and she seemed very chatty and positive. She held herself with confidence and she was dressed smartly. I was at least hopeful for a decent massage.
I started face up. I know it's stupid, but all the stories of happy endings always start with the client face down. Damn, I guess there wasn't going to be any possibility of the "flip". But again, that was only a fleeting fantasy anyway. No expectations after all.
Ninety minutes is not a lot of time to get to know someone. But as I lay there with my eyes closed and Ella got started, her technique immediately brought my thoughts back to Travis, my previous therapist. Within seconds, she found a knotted muscle in my neck and shoulder and began vigorously working it with a special magic.
I think the word "wow" slipped out. "I can't believe you pinpointed that so quickly. It takes a special kind of empathy to be a truly gifted massage therapist."
It's amazing what a simple compliment can do. I could sense, but not see the beaming smile from Ella. "Thank you hun. I agree. There are too many massage therapists who just go through the motions. You have to feel your client and know intuitively where their pressure points will be."
Okay, this was weird. That was almost word for word what I had gotten from my old friend. Maybe they had the same instructor or something. Hell, maybe they knew each other.
I tested the waters. "I'll be honest, I'm on the rebound from my last massage therapist." I went on to explain how we had become friends beyond the massage table and that we were kindred spirits. "We shared a dark secret in common."
"You'll have to tell me about it sometime."
