The family and I are having a mini vacation in Hot Springs this weekend. Dustin and his folks love Hot Springs because of the great horse racing at Oaklawn. I love Hot Springs because of Bath House Row. This is the second time I've been to Hot Springs, and I've never had the courage to actually take a bath on Bath House Row, but I do love me a good massage.
Most of you know that I'm pretty cheap. I practically squeak when I walk. I'm not crazy about spending tons of money on one thing. I especially hate spending more for something just because of where I am at the time. I'm going to be honest...massages in Hot Springs aren't cheap. It isn't known as the spa capitol of the world for nothing. Today, however, I decided to splurge. It has been almost two years since my last massage and I was yearning for that oil, the crazy Native American music that is supposed to relax you, and feeling the tension leave my shoulders. I spent days researching the spas on Bath House Row, mostly dreaming of a whole day of relaxation. After much deliberation, I settled on Quapaw Baths, the newest bath on The Row. Dustin talked me into getting the hot stone massage. One I had been wanting for a long time, but wouldn't pay the extra $15. Creak, squeak, creak. Yep. I know. That cheapness is something I need to work on.
Here was the text I sent Dustin when I was finished.... "Oh. My. Holy. Heck." I've had good massages before. Great massages. But, nothing like this one. Here is where my confession comes in. I drooled. Yep. I did. I was laying there, on my belly with my face in the thingy. You know, the thingy that holds your face and has a hole in it so you can still breathe while your muscles get worked over by a girl who looks like she would blow away if someone turned on the ceiling fan? The thingy that leaves funny C shaped lines on your face? Okay, good. You know the thingy. Well, here is what is running through my head this morning while relaxing in the thingy:
Oh, this is gooooood.
Oh, really good.
Oops. I think my mouth is open. I better shut it.
(Open my eyes)
Crap. Too late.
(I watch as a long string of drool falls to the floor and puddles)
I just drooled on the floor. Whoops.
I'm really glad that didn't land on her foot.
That would have been REALLY embarassing.
Whew! Okay, back to relaxing. With my mouth closed this time.
Yep. That's the sign of a good massage. A puddle of drool on the floor.