Tales from the Spa Cave

What is better than a long weekend in California? Probably a full week in California, but I will take whatever comes my way. I just got home from a wonderful little escape to San Francisco and the Napa Valley where I wined, dined, and wined some more. I have never been a wine aficionado, I am still not, but at least now I know the techniques to look like I know what I am doing.

Oh vino, I have come to appreciate you so. So much in fact, that I decided to treat myself at our resort/spa to a little package called the “Solo Vino” that they offered in their spa caves. It was described as a real treat to the senses with a body scrub, wrap, and massage. Well how could I pass it up, especially when they were going to rub, scrub, and wrap me in grape seeds and extracts? Well this Solo Vino package was not all it was cracked up to be. In fact, instead of it being a relaxing 2 hours, I spent a majority of the time in a full blown panic attack. Please, let me explain …

It all started out harmless enough. I will say that there was a bit of a wrench thrown into the plan as I was suffering from a monthly woman problem. My therapist lady didn’t even introduce herself to me until I was practically nude in the room. I’m sorry, call me old fashioned, but I like to know a person’s name before they start rubbing oils all over me. She really didn’t explain anything about the treatments to me, so I figured no problemo, I can leave my undies on. I guess I am not only old fashioned, but incredibly modest. She said, “Are you going to leave those on?” I meekly said, “Yes,” although what I really wanted to say was, “Believe me lady, you’ll thank me later.”

So she proceeded to scrub the crap out of me. This would have been blissful if the towel she gave me to cover up with wasn’t the size of a washcloth. And wouldn’t you know when she told me she was going to cover her face with the tiny towel as I flipped over, she dropped said towel and caught me mid-flip. NOT HAPPY. So now that I am all scrubbed, she proceeds to take a hose-like thing and rinse me off. Well I could have used some warning that I’d be stuck in wet bottoms for the rest of the treatment, but she didn’t seem to care.

Now comes this cave mud. She really slathers it on, and again washcloth size towel to cover myself. Thankfully she didn’t drop the towel this time, I think she got her fill the first time. Then she wraps me in plastic wrap and leaves for 15 minutes. In my 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxation I wondered how am I supposed to get this mud off and what on Earth am I going to do with these underwear because there is no way they can stay on for another hour especially with the massage coming up next.

Bottom line, after 15 minutes, I had no plan. Then she comes back in and gives me my next orders, “I am going to start the shower for you. Make sure you get all the mud off, I’ll clean up the room and give you some privacy. When you are done, come back out here and lay on your back and put the (washcloth size) towel over you.” So now I am in the shower and it becomes clear that the underwear are no longer wearable. But what am I going to do with them? I came up with the bright idea to shove them into the pocket of my bathrobe that was hanging on the door. So in my quick alone time between shower and table, I found a spare towel (thank god) and stuffed the goods in the pocket of my robe. What was really going through my mind was how this woman was going to react to my now obvious missing underwear. Luckily she didn’t say a single word although, I could practically HEAR her thinking, where are the underwear? Too bad she didn’t see the puddle forming by the door where the evidence was dripping out of my robe. Or maybe she did, I can’t be sure and was too mortified to even acknowledge my missing undergarments.

The massage was next, which went off without much fanfare. I was thinking of my sissy who was in the next room getting the same treatments. Was she suffering as much as I was? More than likely she ripped all her clothes off and showed her lady all the goods before they were in the room. Actually after our debrief of the experience, sissy said she was also thinking of me. Especially when she received her little towel to cover up with. Believe me, if it wasn’t working for her, it would not be working for me.

When all was said and done, I went back to the locker room and put on my clothes, sans any underwear. As a little surprise, I broke into a certain aunt’s locker and left a wet, muddy gift. She was not amused, but then again neither was I.