notes from maggie's farm
It was a scorcher that Austin afternoon, and I simply could not bear the thought of running errands in Friday-we've-got-to-get-anywhere-but-HERE-traffic. But I had a few hours to kill. And a gift card in my pocketbook!
Called, secured an appointment, and was on my way to Mecca within an hour.
A few weeks before, I'd won a gift card worth an hour plus massage from Madbetty. I really needed it!
I love Madbetty.
Naturally, given the opportunity, (and being the total sucker that I am) I upgraded even further. And the glass of Prosecco I was offered turned into 2, and another 14 bucks. And while farmers don't always have the funds for such extravagance, my gift card meant that I had a little extra cash. For drinks and a tip, and AROMATHERAPY. So I succumbed to the charming receptionist's temptations.
He showed me the way to the dressing room, where I traded my civvies for a big fluffy robe and signature flipflops. And then I peeked into all the nooks in crannies in this very well-appointed dressing room.
You expected overalls, didn't you? Well even farmers have going-to-the-city duds for just such occasions.
After two glasses of Prosecco, 80 minutes of massage, cedarwood, grapefruit, and lavender oils wafting through the room, and Zamfir-the-flute-player-going-at-it-with-crickets-and-frogs-next-to-the-creek coming from well-placed speakers, I was absolute putty.
I returned to the den of secrets, also known as the ladies dressing room, took a brief shower, then played Kim Kardashian in the mirror. Yeah, no one else was there. You know you'd have done it, too!
|I have trouble with the duck lips thing.|
Surely, I was in a dream state, looking back on it now.
Because, if just for this one afternoon, instead of spitting and snorting and snarling in Austin traffic...
I blew kisses.
THANK YOU, MADBETTY!