Back by special request–Tarzan and the massage

This c olumn w <I <ITAL I have received requests to run it again, here

it i s. Enjoy! –KCM

Last Saturday, I visited

heaven for a couple of


Bill, Kennedy and I travelled

to College Station where I

cashed in my Mother’s Day gift

certificate for a facial and massage

at Galleria Day Spa.

The massage was great but

hey, I get great massages pretty

regularly right here in Rockdale

at Healing Handzz. But the

facial was divine. It was called

the Ultimate European facial

and dahling, was it ever heavenly.

I felt very pampered, for


On the way home, I started

thinking about my history with

massages. I came out of my

relaxation coma and started


My very first massage was at

Lake Austin Resort and Spa.

I had never gotten a massage

before, had never given it much

thought. So when my masseuse

walked in and told me to take

my clothes off and get under the

sheet, I nearly fainted.

On top of that she told me her

name was Moon Beam or Moon

Pie or some “my parents were

hippies” name.

So there I was naked, lying

under a sheet, eyes wide open,

extremely nervous. Not exactly

the best karma for a relaxing

massage. I just kept thinkng

“what the heck have I gotten

myself into?”

So Moon Beam walks back

in and she says she’s going to

begin. So I lay there and lay

there and nothing happens. Am

I supposed to do something, I

wondered? Heck, I’m not moving,

I’m naked under here.

So I move my head ever so

slightly to see what Moonie was

doing and she had knelt down

beside the table and was either

praying or meditating before

she began. That was weirdness

right off the bat.

When Moon Beam began the

massage I was as tense and

nervous as I had ever been in

my life. So of course, every time

she touched me, it tickled and I

started laughing.

The more I tried not to laugh,

the more I laughed. (I was horrifi

ed at myself. I didn’t want

her to think I was really enjoying

it. I mean, really enjoying it,

if you know what I mean).

It was a truly terrible experience

all around and I vowed to

never get another massage for

the rest of my life.

Many years later, my friend

Bonnie convinced me to go with

her for her birthday to Salon

505 in Austin to get a facial and

a massage. I reluctantly agreed.

I told her all about my first

experience on the way there.

She insisted that she had had

several massages there and it

wasn’t going to be like that at


But nothing, not even Moon

Beam, could have prepared me

for what happened next.

Bonnie and I were in the

waiting room and a lady walks

up with a white lab-looking coat

on and calls Bonnie’s name.

I thought, Okay this is like a

medical deal, very professional.

I started relaxing.

That’s when I heard the deepest

male voice I had ever heard

in my life. “Kathy?” I looked up

to find a giant man, way over 6

feet, with long, dark wavy hair,

past his shoulders. He says “I

am Tarzan. I am your masseuse.”

Oh of course you are!” I

froze. When I finally gained my

composure I followed him all

through the salon like a puppy.

My legs felt like jelly. At the top

of the stairs we stopped and I

see Bonnie in a white robe coming

out of a room. When she

saw Tarzan she looked startled.

Then when I popped out from

behind Tarzan, she really looked


I mouthed silently to Bonnie

Oh my gosh! He’s gonna

massage me!” She was facing

Tarzan and she tried not to

laugh but it didn’t work. So

Bonnie goes with her professional

“nurse” masseuse and

Tarzan says to me “Go in, take

off your clothes, take a shower,

put on the robe and come back

out here. You’re in good hands.”

Then he smiled.

So I close the bathroom door and start to panic and mumble over and over “Oh my Gosh! Oh my Gosh! Oh my Gosh!” I get my clothes off and walk into the shower.

I glimpse something moving out of the corner of my eye. I turned and saw a big naked woman with a shower cap on her head. I screamed so loudly that Bonnie could hear me in her massage room. I mean, who puts a mirror in a shower, for Pete’s sake?

And how was I going to explain why I screamed? Sure enough, when I came out of the bathroom, five people were waiting for me to see if I was alright.

By this time I am, again, a nervous wreck. I am racking my brain to try and figure a way out of this. Tarzan’s massage was actually very nice. I willed myself to remain calm the whole time so I wouldn’t laugh.

The only time I got really horrified was when I was laying face down with my head in that little doughnut pillow, my nose started running. I mean, my nose started pouring. There was no way for me to wipe it, my arms were elsewhere.

So when he asks me to turn over, I sat up with snot running down to my chin. Yeah, nice.

Thankfully, I gave massage another try years later. I’ll stick with Healing Handzz any day. And thankfully, my masseuse is just named plain old Deta. shower.

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2010-05-13 digital edition

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