Stick A Fork In Me, I'm Done!

I've always thought that if my dream job wasn't being a bestselling novelist it would be a spa reviewer or spa critic or any job title that allows me to go to spas and get all the treatments they offer, for freeeeeee. But after my trip to Burke Williams yesterday I think I maybe have to revise that - maybe I should just stick to a plain old massage.

I was excited when I made my appointment because since I had a left over gift card from Christmas, a discount coupon and some extra cash in the wallet I reserved three different treatments. A massage (of course), a wrap (whatever that was) and a spa bath (because a spa bath MUST be better than a regular bath). Paradise!

I got there really early because Lee and Sydney wanted me out of the way so they could "do stuff" for my birthday party later (and a great job they did by the way - sorry, little personal business to take care of there) and so I was an hour early for my appointment. I was looking forward to using the Jacuzzi, the steam room, the misting room and the sauna and to having some really quiet time to myself. Time to think about my book and my life, and all that stuff you are supposed to think about on your birthday - Like where I've been, where I'm going, and why my butt gets closer to my knees every year.

So I put my stuff away and hop in to the spa and I close my eyes and soak and think, and soak and think. I think some very big thoughts, realize the meaning of life, get overly warm, and in a panic, check the clock because with all of that thinking I must be late for my massage! But no, its only been five minutes. Wow. Ok, so I have time to use the other amenities. I head off to the misting room to cool down. If you've never been in a misting room, well, its a room. With mist . Like an after thought they also threw in a wobbly concrete garden bench to sit on. I'm not sure what the actual purpose of sitting in cold mist is other than make you cold and wet, but its nice after the Jacuzzi. So I sit in there and endure the freezing drips of water from the ceiling and again think I must be running out of time so I check the clock. What the? Only three more minutes gone. Hell, I've still got 47 minutes left till my massage. Wait, I mean yea! There's still 47 minutes left of self examination and relaxation! Yeah, that's better.

So I head off to the steam room, which of course is just like the misting room only hotter. Yes, I know. Anyway, as I wipe the water off my face again, I'm beginning to sense a theme here, which is evident in my waterlogged fingers and toes. But for the next 47 minutes I go back and forth - spa, misting room, steam room, - spa, misting room, steam room. I've never had such clean pores or such an over abundance of thoughtful examination. (quite honestly by this point I've about all of myself I can take and can't wait for someone else to talk to)

It is finally time for my massage, which after my masseuse and I dealt with a small fire in the hallway towel heater went as all massages should go, quietly and gloriously.

Then I went to the "wrap". This is an odd little treatment that I've never done before. They soak sheets in a HOT tea which is water with herbs and things, then you lay on them and they wrap you up with blankets and finish it off with one of those silver space thermal thingys. Inside this oven you are sweating and lying in a puddle. Really, I felt like a potato wrapped in foil and stuck in the oven. And I'm paying for this? Yea!

After the wrap comes the bath. They put HOT water in a jet tub, add milk and herbs and then just as I'm getting in I was handed cucumber slices. Ok, I know the cucumbers are for my eyes, but I got a flash of that old Bugs Bunny cartoon, the one with the head hunters and Bugs in a boiling cauldron? With a carrot? I even imagined I could hear the sound of jungle drums over the pop and burble of my own bubbling cauldron, I mean bathtub. And they sounded JUST like dinner drums. As I lay there at a roiling boil and thought about my day I realized that maybe I hadn't been a customer as much as a dinner invitee. First I was tenderized (massage), then I was marinated and pre-cooked (wrap) and now, for a delightful end to the process, I was being boiled, with milk, herbs and vegetables. I wondered briefly what the name of this dish was going to be and whether I be considered a braise, a stew, or a soup?

I was slightly delirious from all that water, mist, aromatherapy, milk, massage, heat and thinking and unfortunately was giggling quietly but hysterically to myself when the attendant came to get me. I'm sure she's still trying to figure out what the hell I meant when I told her with a laugh and a flourish of my arm - "Stick a fork in me, I'm done!.