MONDAY, AUGUST 1, 2011
DEAR DIARY...
...yesterday I finally took some time off for myself after a heavy professional season.
After my daily 10-km- bicycle-ride, I went to my usual Spa (and no! it's not a massage parlour. It's a REAL spa in the thermal area of Abano Terme, near Padua ; you have a naughty mind, haven't you?) to be pampered, scrubbed, massaged, kneaded, bathed, soaked, Dead-Sea-mud coated, bathed again, pulled, pushed and what not
After my daily 10-km- bicycle-ride, I went to my usual Spa (and no! it's not a massage parlour. It's a REAL spa in the thermal area of Abano Terme, near Padua ; you have a naughty mind, haven't you?) to be pampered, scrubbed, massaged, kneaded, bathed, soaked, Dead-Sea-mud coated, bathed again, pulled, pushed and what not
My usual attendant masseuse is a strong, matronal lady with the most skilled hands to un-knot muscles. I've noticed that the Spa manager NEVER assigns me to male attendants. I really do not understand why
*straight-faced*
Yesterday I decided to finally complain about it with the manager. He smiled somewhat mischievously and complied with my request.
Apart from the fact that my usual attendant is better at her job (although this new guy was not bad either, and moreover gorgeously handsome!), I soon discovered why the manager has smiled.
This attendant is absolutely, totally and happily gay !
Oh well...next time I'll revert to my usual. At least I'll get a better massage.
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