man handled.

I have stories to tell. And I've chosen YOU to tell them to first.
You're welcome.

I was walking over to the spa this afternoon with two co-workers when one of them announced that she was prego! That's fun. So we had some girl talk about it with our sales rep while sitting in robes, drinking a delicious beverage and nibbling on fruit while waiting for our massages. Soon the conversation turned to me when the rep asked, "So, Steph, what's new with you?" I responded, "Well, I'm not pregnant." I looked over to find my co-worker shaking her head. "You kill me", was all she had to say.

What? I'm not.

Then when the massage therapists came to collect us from where we were waiting, there was a man among them. And guess whose name he called.
Of course, mine.
Remember the last time I got a man massage from Dennis? I'm happy to report that Shawn was much better. He was young, not unattractive and his belly didn't touch me - all unlike Dennis. Still, I always feel a little strange with the man massage from a stranger.

And what's more, I basically had a couple's massage. WITH THE SALES REP. The spa didn't have enough rooms, so they threw up a partition and the sales rep (who I'd only met once before) and I got massaged together.
Good times.

And they all lived happily ever after.
The End.