What happens in Vegas sometimes gets put on people’s blogs – Hive and Nest

I was at a get-to-know-you meeting the other day and we were asked what our most embarassing moment was.  I honestly couldn’t remember.  I’ve apparently done a good job of blocking it out.  But I remembered it this morning, and now for your edification, and since it’s Sue’s Sort-of Funny Friday, here it is.  I only made a fool of myself in front of one person, but sometimes one is too many.

When I was about 22 or 23 I had my first professional massage. It was at a spa at one of the nicer hotels in Las Vegas. I was shown to my little massage room, and unlike the spas in Utah where they are very clear about how exactly to remain modest, the lady who escorted me had nothing to say except to get undressed and wait for my masseuse.

I didn’t know that there was actually a top sheet and a bottom sheet on the massage table and that I was supposed to wiggle my way inside.

Instead I stood there for a while trying to figure out how to feel about this situation.  I’m not the kind of person who likes to frolic about undressed.  But I didn’t want to seem all prudish and uptight.  It’s a massage, for Pete’s sake, not a date!  So I stripped down to my starkers and laid on top of the table.

I can’t begin to describe how completely NAKED it feels to lie on a table NAKED. I debated whether to lie on my stomach or go for sunny-side up. It’s Vegas, after all.  They’ve seen everything! I could just picture my masseuse laughing with the other masseuses after I left, “can you believe she was lying face down?  Like I’ve never seen boobs before!”

So I went for the gusto. “No big deal, no big deal”, I kept telling myself, “they’re professionals”. Just like my first visit to the OB/GYN.

The masseuse knocked gently then walked in.

She slammed the door so fast I hardly knew what happened.

“Get under the sheet!” She shouted.

So I did. And I’m sure she could see the blush that went all the way to my toes.