While I was in Montreal for the last few days, I went to get a massage. My French is poor, so the folks at the spa and I limped along in broken phrases until we understood each other. My therapist was a lovely woman from Columbia who spoke Spanish as a first language, French as a second, and no English at all. Ok. Anything worth having is worth working for. We made it work. We began the massage, and it was lovely. All was well, and I was magnificiently relaxed. Then the therapist asked me to roll over. As I did, the table collapsed.
I rolled across the floor completely unharmed. Once I got over a moment of shock, laughing a belly laugh, I realized that I couldn't assure the therapist I was OK in any language, and I couldn't stop laughing.
After a few minutes, we got over it and went on with the massage. I think I'll chuckle every time I think of that for the rest of my life. I was not the experience I thought I was getting, but I wouldn't trade it!
I'll tell you about the knitting soon!
I rolled across the floor completely unharmed. Once I got over a moment of shock, laughing a belly laugh, I realized that I couldn't assure the therapist I was OK in any language, and I couldn't stop laughing.
After a few minutes, we got over it and went on with the massage. I think I'll chuckle every time I think of that for the rest of my life. I was not the experience I thought I was getting, but I wouldn't trade it!
I'll tell you about the knitting soon!
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