Thursday, October 20, 2011

Training To Seattle: Jack Gets Man Pants -- really

After knocking about Seattle the rest of the day, we walked to the spa, Ummelina, where we had earlier booked our massages. A nice young woman led Mrs Elliott and me to the changing room.

"You will find bathrobes for both of you in your booths."

Holding open the curtain to my booth, she lowered her voice, "Jack, here are also pants for you."

They were knee-length, made of unbleached cotton, with a drawstring. Puzzled, I took off my clothes, donned the shorts and bathrobe and the young woman led us out of the room.

"Now would be a good time to visit the bathroom before getting your footbath and shower," she said while we trailed behind.

"Well," I said, "I don't need to use the bathroom now, but when you get my age you never know!"

She laughed. "You're so funny, Jack!"

We were made comfortable in nice chairs in a special rest and relaxation room where the foot guy tried to get us to select our aromatherapy scents -- but we resisted, finding the whole concept of picking out a special fragrance for our feet absurdly indulgent. He was invited to pick.

After washing our feet, foot guy left, hauling out the wash water. Of course, no sooner than he was gone I found that the splashing of the water had sweet-talked my bladder into declaring that it was time for a pee.

But we were alone in the room, so I had to wait. I started to get a bit uncomfortable. Fortunately, the young woman showed up.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I told her.

She laughed. "You're so funny, Jack!"

And left. She must have thought I was kidding around. After a few more minutes, she returned.

"Um, when I said I needed to go to the bathroom, I meant it," I explained.

"Oh, sorry. Okay, follow me!"

She led me through a minor labyrinth of corridors and through doorways to the bathroom. "Okay, when you're done, just come on back to where your wife is waiting."

Since I didn't know I'd need to find my own way back, I hadn't been paying attention. I told her I'd need a guide to lead me back.

She laughed. "You're so funny, Jack!"

I was getting a bit tired of being so funny.

Once back in the sitting room, I leaned over to Mrs Elliott and asked her why I needed to wear pants.

"You're wearing pants?"

"Yeah -- I was given pants in the changing room to put on."

She had no idea.

The young woman returned again to introduce us to our massage therapists. Mine was named Rose.

As Rose led me down the hall to the massage room, I asked in a low voice, "Rose, why do I need to wear pants?"

"You're wearing pants?"

"Yeah -- I was given pants in the changing room to put on."

She paused, looking a bit puzzled. "Well...I guess that sometimes men are uncomfortable and want to make sure to cover up when they are getting their feet washed."

"What -- afraid their dangly bits might be visible?" I found the idea silly. Women know how to keep their ladyparts covered . . . are my fellow men mentally deficient or something?

Anyway, Rose said they were optional and I didn't need to wear them during the massage.

Which, by the way, was exceptional. I've received (and given) lots of massages, taken course with Mrs Elliott, and like getting massaged. Rose's style of slow, deep pressure was perfect. Ummelina + Rose = highly recommended.

Next: We ferry to Bainbridge Island to check it out, then return to Tacoma for our last night before boarding the morning Starlight Express back to Chemult. 

1 comment:

  1. "Women know how to keep their ladyparts covered"

    Their ladyparts don't hang out there like our manly bits do.


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