My Embarrassing Massage

Not all endings are happy

Photo by Emiliano Vittoriosi on Unsplash

A disclaimer first, if you will indulge me. If you don’t, then go ahead and click on another story. My disclaimer is that although I am a purportedly “happily married man” of 27-plus years, once in a while I don’t mind physical contact with a truly beautiful woman, although Yes I do pay for the privilege.

When it comes to being touched, or in this case rubbed, if you were to enter the term “massage” in the Medium search bar, you would come up with quite a few lurid stories.

I have done just that for a previous story about what I have long considered the Best Hour of My Month, and I did it once again this very minute for this story’s purposes.

The first three stories that came up with my search for the term “massage” today.

When it comes to my current massage regime, it has morphed over the past several months to the point where it could have and should have, but did not, come to a head last night.

For years, I patronized a completely legit place about a mile away from my home.

We live in the northwest suburbs of Chicago where there is an Asian massage parlor roughly every mile or two at the most. Most are legit, while others specialize in the…