One of my girlfriends and I decided to go to a day spa (courtesy of our bosses) for a massage.  We were both looking forward to the massage experience together while enjoying each other's company and a rousing round of laughter woven in the day.  I love massages and the body and mental relaxation that occurs.   Deciding to meet each other at the spa, I arrived first.  Sitting in the lobby waiting on my friend, they called my name.  I expressed to them that I was waiting on my friend. The spa employee assured me that they would bring her back as soon as she got there.  Not having ever been to this particular spa for a massage, I follow the employee down the very dark candlelit hallway where she hands me a robe and tells me to go into the dressing room and remove all my clothing (some of you non-massage people are already squirming to think of being buck naked on a table with a stranger rubbing oil on your skin and plying your muscles into soft puddles of goo!).  I oblige her, as me and nudity (see post on ironing in the nude) co-exist quite easily together.  She then leads me to a small room.  Inside the room are two small love seats, subdued lighting and more candles with soft "Yanni" music playing in the background.  "This," she says, "is the relaxation room where you can let your mind slow down and soak your feet in a warm basin of water."  I'm feeling slightly uncomfortable at this point.  Sitting across from me in this room is a man.  To me it seems odd to be sitting in a room in darkness with a man I don't know, both us naked underneath the robes we are wearing.  As I sit down on the loveseat I notice that this man is extremely tall.  He had to be well over 6' tall.  I, on the other hand, am 5'5".  My eyes now fully adjusted to the dimly lit room, realize that the robes they have given us are no doubt a one size fits all type of deal (much like hospital gowns!).  The robe on me literally wraps around me twice and comes down to mid-calf.  This is not the case for the gentleman.  His robe (seated) barely hits the middle of his thighs.  I am now privy to seeing completely up his robe as his ginormous legs and angle in which he has to sit to get his feet into the basin, create a sort of telescope for me to clearly view his man parts. It is now all I can do to not start laughing out loud at the hilarity of the whole situation.  Inside I am wondering where my friend is, why I am in this room with this man, why he cannot notice that his robe is too short or feel air on his nether regions.  Ten more minutes pass and an employee finally returns to take "tall man in short robe" (the Indian name I have silently given him in my head while whimsically entertaining myself over the view) from the room.  As he stands to leave he puts on the spa issued flip flops to follow her.  I clasp my hand over my mouth as I note how short that robe is on him, but also that the spa issued flip flops must be one size for men and one size for women.  His feet are also huge and his entire portion of his heel is not on the flip flop, but hanging strangely off the back.  There was something rising from the depths of me that was going to burst forth in laughter at the sight of "tall man in short robe" exiting the room, robe barely covering his ass, flip flops that appear to be about 5 sizes to small and him carrying his glass of wine with him to the next room.  As soon as the door shut behind them I broke out into laughter - the image of what I saw burned onto my retinas. I got way more than just a massage  - WAY MORE!

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