The stiff bottle of oil

by LA Guzda

This story is part of our 'Funny Spa Stories' series, featuring tales from luxury hotel guests which were sent in for our travel writing competition.

Photo by Thomas Wanhoff.


I woke up one morning with an excruciating backache. I called a chiropractor who had been recommended. He was happy to see me in his office in an hour as he was just teeing off the 18th hole. That should have been my first clue. We met and I was anxious to have an adjustment to relieve this pain. Instead, I was given a lecture on "Mr. Spinal Column" and the benefits of a series of chiropractic treatments. The office didn't accept insurance but would happily provide a payment plan for the twelve week program. I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or cry.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough and immediately called a high-end day spa to see if it was possible to get a massage. I usually prefer a female but with my pain I was happy to accept an appointment with Roger in an hour.

The massage began and I was ready to relax and enjoy the experience. Suddenly, as Roger reached into a long stretch, he leaned into my body and I felt something very hard between his legs rub against me. I froze. What was that? It's not what I think it is, is it? Again he leaned into my side as he massaged the skin upwards. And again I could feel it, this time against my arm. Oh my god! What do I do? Do I say something? What would I say? "Excuse me, I'm flattered but very disturbed that you are excited by this massage."

The pain in my back increased as did the tension through my entire body. Forty minutes of embarrassing torture. By the time I had to turn over, I could only hope this would end soon... very soon. The massage continued and so did the hard bulge between Roger's legs. My goodness, Roger has some stamina! I was absolutely mortified. For an hour I lay there amazed at Roger's prowess and the unbearable discomfort of wanting to be as far away as possible. This was the most un-relaxing massage imaginable.

Roger gently touched my head and informed me that the massage was over and he hoped I felt some relief. Oh, I am relieved, believe me, I am very relieved. As I barely lifted my head, not wanting to meet Roger's eyes, my eyes couldn't help but to hone in on his "prize." I was mortified. There, attached to Roger's belt, was a four inch bottle for his oil. I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or cry. I busted out laughing instead. Maybe I didn't get the best massage that day, but I got a story that I enjoy telling over and over. So, when all was said and done, I got more than my money's worth that day. I think it was the hearty laughter that dissipated my back pain.

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