Thursday, 5 March 2009

Thinner?

Incense burnt slowly creating pockets of mist with the low lighting, which subtly invited us to relax among the various Asian artefacts. Acoustic versions of songs made famous by back-in-the-day crooners, merged into one in the background whilst we sat ticking boxes. The check list was endless. Have you got verrucas, heart problems, breathing difficulties, pains, diabetes - an aversion to strangers? Lulled into a false sense of security and happily ticking away at the 'no' boxes, the final inquiry glared out from the questionnaire like a bar of Green and Blacks when you're on a diet. What would you like to change about your body? What a clanger. After 21 years of friendship we often find ourselves finishing off one another's sentences or in this case speaking in unison; “thinner?” we queried. All this for a massage? Signing our lives away and absolving the spa from any responsibility should we experience a sudden velocity towards the floor. The last time I had a massage was in India after five days trekking in the Himalayas and several near head-on collisions on the journey through Rajasthan. Two tiny Indian women with leathered faces and rough hands prepared the room. There was no preamble, no questionnaire. A few minutes later I heard Jen's voice from the other side of the curtain. "Have you got any clothes on?" she asked, a note of slight discomfort in her voice. "Well,” I replied, “she's dressing me in a paper loin cloth, does that count?" There is after all, something to be said for English conservatism and box ticking.

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