Carlie

I check the sign outside to make sure I'm at the right place. I'd arrived here straight from work so I'm still wearing my professional blouse and skirt. Normally I'd never come to a low-end spa like this but I'd injured my back and have a golf tournament coming up soon. My physical therapist recommended I come here. This parlor is close to my house and I need as many sessions as I can get in a very short time. After checking in with the receptionist and confirming my appointment, I'm ushered into a small room with a massage table placed in the center. A full-length mirror sits in the corner. Cabinets line the walls and the low, gentle sound of running water comes from everywhere. Stacks of towels and a huge variety of lotions and creams litters the countertops. Diagrams of the human body, with detailed notes about muscles and tendons, adorn the walls. The lights are dim and the scent of lavender drifts on the air. I was leery at first about coming to a spa operated by male masseurs but this looks better than I'd expected and I was told that their greater physical strength might be helpful towards making a quick recovery.