The Birthday Fiasco

Several months ago my mom asked what I’d like for my birthday. It took approximately 3 seconds to reply, “a massage!” I hadn’t had one in over a year and I knew things were about to get pretty chaotic. On May 12 a glorious gift arrived from the Fort—a check from my parents with "massage!" written in the memo line. I knew if I had one in May or June it’d be wasted since I’d be thinking of other things so I purposefully saved it for July 2—my day off.

I called last Monday and scheduled the massage for 1 pm on Friday. I made plans to meet up with some friends for lunch on Friday so I called the day before and moved my appointment to 1:30p. Friday came around and I was GIDDY with excitement.

You know where this is going, don’t you?

At 1:10 I received a call from the salon asking me where I was for my 1p appointment. I didn’t answer the phone but after I heard the message I drove even faster to the salon. I breezed in at 1:15 and pretended I hadn’t received the message. I smiled and said, “Hello, I’m here for my 1:30 appointment.” The lady gave me the most condescending smile and said, “No honey, your appointment was at 1p. You’re late.”

Skeeerreeeeet (record scratching).

I mimicked her smile and nicely told her I’d called the day before to change my appointment. She blinked twice and went to the back room. Another lady came up and told me my appointment was at 1p so I gave her the same schpeel. They both tilted their heads and looked right at me, smiles never leaving their faces. It was then I realized, “Holy cow, they don’t believe me!” The first lady sighed and said, “I’m sorry, but we have a 2:00 appointment that can’t be moved. Perhaps you could come back at 4?” By this point sirens were blaring in my head so I only heard, “Blah blah blah, no massage for you.” I took a deep breath and said, “I’ll just go somewhere else.”

Perhaps I’m being a little overdramatic but I now know how Vivienne felt in Pretty Woman. Minus the whole prostitute part.

I grabbed my bag, walked to my car in the rain (of course), and called another salon in Coppell. Booked. And then I shook my fist and yelled to the thunder clouds, “I just want a massage, damnit!” They answered by literally raining on my parade.

After I got home I received a message from the owner who apologized profusely (I guess SHE was the one I spoke to the day before) and offered an hour massage for half price. My cheap side perked up, but my grudge-holding side (yikes, I have two sides and both are equally terrible) realized they’d still be getting money from me. No way was that going to happen. I did, however, want to prance in the store with 8 hat boxes and smirk, "Big mistake. Big. HUGE." Something tells me it wouldn't have had the same effect.

Yesterday I picked up the phone and made a new appointment (at a new place) for Saturday. I had to speak to three salons before I found one that was available, but I’m finally going to get my bday present.

And I’m going to be relaxed and happy, even if it kills me.