Woman after woman stepped out of the small, warm room with flushed faces and sly grins. Sex hair and shirts askew, they stumbled from the kitchen back to their desks. Next was my turn.
I was nervous. Of course I had picked today to wear skinny jeans for the first time ever. I felt uncomfortable and apprehensive, but that was all about to change.
I stepped into the haven and was greeted by the aroma of lavender, the sound of naturescapes, and the white hot smile of an Abercrombie model.
I gulped like a teenaged boy about to get his first lap dance. THIS was our company masseuse? Why couldn't he be an old, fat lady?
Soon, I was crumpled into the massage chair, worrying less about whether my underwear was sticking out of my jeans an more about... well, nothing.
The fifteen minutes went by too quickly, and I cried a little inside as I shook the model-I mean masseuse's hand and returned to the toils of my desk. All in all, this new job isn't half bad.