After a particularly stressful (redundant) week as a social worker, arguing with my then-boyfriend about his work addiction and searching all over my excuse for a city to find my best friend’s birthday gift, I was more than ready to unwind with a relaxing Friday off work. Plans for the day included sleeping in, going to the gym, a long-overdue massage and lunch with a friend.
My day started off with what classifies as one of my Top Ten Worst Hangovers - Ever. The birthday celebrations the night before included an aphrodisiac (don’t judge, it was around Valentine’s Day) food and wine pairing. Naturally, I had a drink prior to dinner to unwind from the craziness at work. What’s the saying about liquor before wine? Oh wait, there isn’t one because everyone knows it’s a poor choice. So, one vodka water and about 4 glasses of both white and red wine later, dinner was coming to an end. Only the boys had to work the following day, so the birthday girl decided to walk across the street to our favorite lounge and have a nightcap. That nightcap turned into three drinks, a few shots and a major headache.
As with any night where you mix a good cabernet with shots of Crown Maple, I was ready to toss some cookies at any moment. Luckily for me, I had decided to pamper myself with a full-body, 90 minute Swedish massage and that was just the cure for an epic hangover. Or so I thought. I arrived to the spa fifteen minutes prior to my massage to have some water, unwind and circle the areas of my body that hurt (newsflash: everywhere). I was introduced to the masseuse, a sweet twenty-one year old from a small town nearby. She and I laughed as I told her about the night before, my crazy week at work with trials and adoption hearings, and that I hadn't gotten a massage in far too long.
Before she left the room, I ripped off my clothes more passionately than I had in quite some time. I was waiting for her to enter the room, listening to the calming music and getting comfortable on the massage table. I had just drifted off into the first relaxed sleep in months, when an obnoxiously loud fart woke me. I'm talking so loud, I jumped! As if that weren't bad enough, the smell from said fart was so bad I could feel my nose hairs burning away. It was very evident that it was more than just a fart and more of a bowel movement. She asked if I would excuse her from the room, to which I had to respond, "you could have left prior to ripping ass, but of course!"
The fart that ruined my life was roughly thirty minutes into my massage. With two-thirds left to go, I still felt confident that I could block out the stench of an old diaper and get through this hangover. The masseuse was lucky enough to leave the room, I, however, was trapped. Not only trapped with a rotten scent but also naked, covered in oil and now cold. I was able to grab my phone and check the time without the pool of oil on my lower back spilling. About ten minutes pass with the poopy-pants out of the room and I finally hear a knock on the door. I give the obligatory, "open," response while face down on the massage table, but was startled to hear a voice different from the girl that recently defecated herself. Just as a quick reminder, I'm completely naked at this time. The voice explains that my masseuse had an emergency (hehe) and had to leave. The voice asked if I wanted to have another therapist finish to which I replied, "I have a giant pool of oil, do I have a choice?" reluctantly. Clearly, this person didn't understand my sarcasm.
Interestingly, my massage ended at the same time that it was scheduled to, despite the twenty to thirty minute delay. The rest of my massage, all I could think of was that the germs from the previous woman were being spread into my entire body. I couldn't leave fast enough when the manager of the spa asked how my massage was. I told her of the bowel movement that interrupted my massage, that I lost out on about thirty minutes, that I'm probably covered in germs and I can't wait to arrive home to bathe in bleach. Did she apologize? No. Offer to refund me or schedule a make-up session? Absolutely not. Explain that it's perfectly acceptable? Nope.
Needless to say that this spa and their horrible customer service was the subject of my story for weeks to come. I feel for the girl, which is why I never shared her name, but the fact that there was no explanation, no apology, no request to have me return to their spa, is completely ridiculous. Over a year later, my mind is still blown and I continue to be apprehensive to schedule any spa service.
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