It’s been a long week.
My head has had a tough job, managing a million thoughts that aren’t all helpful. It’s times like these I feel like my head is kind of like a Coke bottle, that has been shaken and shaken and has swollen, full of gas, desperate to spurt all over the place. I’ve been fortunate enough to line up a few things to gently undo the lid, allowing some of that gas to siphon out. I finally got the all clear to get back to hydrotherapy; my beloved and I went out for dinner last night; I’ve got a pedicure booked for tomorrow (a gift from Mrs Cuppy); and today I had a massage.
See? Little lovely bursts of gas to relieve some of the pressure from my ever-swelling cranium.
Here’s the location of the massage I had, thanks to the lovely Mel at Hunter Massage:
I love it there. You don’t get the screeching whale background music – instead you get real waves patting the shore. There’s no oil burners or air fresheners, it’s just salty sea air. Awesome. And if you are a bit like me, and like checking out memorabilia, the Hall in the Surf Club that Hunter Massage is located in is lined with old photos, honour boards, articles – it’s great.
I imagine that it’s the kind of stuff that lures many people further and further into the surf club, and encourages them to get involved in the community.
Anyway, Mel took me to her quiet corner, that is screened off and marked with signage. It’s so discreet that I had no qualms in stripping off enthusiastically and flopping down on the massage bed while I waited for her. The massage started, and I apologised for my hairiness of leg. Then I remembered my lengthy toenails (more about that later), and apologised for that, too. Grooming has been somewhat left by the wayside – as I said, fizzy pressure head.
I then sunk into that relaxed silence, closed my eyes and drifted way as Mel did her thing. It came time to roll over, and I told Mel I’d stand up and turn around instead of just rolling. She turned to walk away and being one who tends to act without thinking, I leaped up, went to stretch and found myself offering a view of my nakidity to a lone man, who had been tempted past the privacy screens and signs by the lure of surf club photos.
Mel said hello or excuse me or something to the man, who immediately turned around and saw Tits Magee diving back onto the massage bed, one leg in the air and the other leg still planted on the ground. My boobs were pancaked onto the bed while I giggled like a loon. The man spluttered and apologised and huffed and puffed. Mel was pointing out the signs and the screens and explaining to the man where he had gone astray, as she gently ushered him out. Me? I was considering how much he might have seen.
I had stripped down to my (bright red) undies.
I’m pretty sure he even got an eyeful of my nipple bar.
The massage continued, with fits of giggles bubbling away.
Tomorrow is the pedicure. I’m pretty sure I won’t need to be naked for that one, so my chances at accidental nudity are reduced. But I have a surprise for the lucky person who does the pedi. I’ve been growing my toenails since I received the voucher.
So, tell me: am I the only person this kind of thing happens to? Have you ever accidentally given someone a flash of full frontal nudity?