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April 11, 2007
Wednesday Wrap-Up
Do all spas require you to fill out a complicated, personally invasive form before receiving a massage? (If you can’t tell, I don’t get massages very often.) Last night, all I wanted to do was relax for a full hour. Instead, I got to relax for about 50 minutes because I had to spend the first 10 minutes filling out a form that would make the IRS blush. By the time the form asked me to list all of my hobbies (why the hell is that relevant? If the masseuse is any good at her job, she’ll be able to figure out your hobbies by asking), I couldn’t keep myself from scribbling, “Writing Kim Jong-Il love letters.” Strangely, that hobby didn’t come up during the massage.
I received an incredibly dirty look on the Metro yesterday morning. Picture it, there’s only one open seat, but a mean-looking woman has two bags sitting atop that seat. The Thinking Fool, incredibly exhausted and not wanting to stand for the next 20 minutes, walks up to the woman and says, “Will you please move your bags?” Michael Myers couldn’t shoot Jaime Lee Curtis a deadlier stare than what that lady extended my way. That was one day I was quite disappointed I didn’t have gas. She deserved to smell some noxious fumes, and I would have gladly accepted credit for providing such an odor just to ensure that she’d have a lovely day.
Speaking of the Metro, there’s a reason they don’t let cyclists carry their bicycles on the trains during rush hour. Because it’s impossible for passengers to get on and off the train! Thus, to the man who gladly brought his bike on the packed train last night, have a little decency on the next go, and for crying out loud, stop trying to get the pole to sodomize you. It’s a stationary object and just doesn’t have any interest in you. (Perhaps you should send flowers.)
Finally, in the “Things I never thought I’d ever write” category, Sanjaya actually should not be the one voted off American Idol this week.
Comments
*getting the visual of the fat lady with her bags shooting you a withering glare*
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Your pain is my joy, TF. :) (Just kidding, but your pain is pretty amusing sometimes.)
Posted by: Faith at April 11, 2007 11:09 AM
I sometimes ask people to move their bags JUST for that look!
Posted by: Law-Rah at April 11, 2007 12:01 PM
Did you get a happy ending with your massage?
Posted by: wiseazzz at April 11, 2007 01:59 PM
*snorting at Wiseazzz's comment* I'm actually pissed I didn't think of that first.
Posted by: Faith at April 11, 2007 03:46 PM
TF!!!! Oh man. You got a massage this week? Next week is Spa Week! You can get incredibly fancy massages and all sorts of frivolous happiness-inducing body treatments (no, not THAT kind) for just $50 next week! See spaweek.org. You'll have to register online (for free), but then you can see all of the delightful deals local spas are offering. :)
Posted by: LM at April 11, 2007 07:56 PM
He will be voted off next week. Haley wasn't good. I love SPAS and hate when the masseus person talks the whole time.
Posted by: mrsmogul at April 12, 2007 08:07 AM
During a massage, what are you supposed to do if you have gas? She is pressing down on you making it even more and more of a need, are you allowed to stop holding back? Isnt it about total relase?
Posted by: pretty at April 12, 2007 10:56 AM
