A Woman's Man?
I passed by my beautiful wife in the kitchen the other day and I said simply, "Man, I wish you were Angela." (Fake name).
Now a lot of guys wouldn't get away with wishing their wife were another woman, especially to said wife's face, but Kathy just laughed. "I wish you were Angela too," she said.
About a year and a half ago I was really hurting after the car accident on the skyway, and my wife dragged me to the spa. I'd been through pills, adjustments, rest and ice.
At the spa (I am tempted to call is a massage parlor, but that's something Anthony Weiner would do) I met Angela.
On that first visit, Angela hurt me with her pushing and pressure and unbelievable strength. Two days later, I felt like my back was brand new. I've been swearing by Angela ever since.
Of course, there's a funny aside to the first massage. Kathy had also gone and we had finished up about the same time and were sitting in the lounge area drinking a water.
"How was it?" Kathy asked.
"They spend too much time in the groin area," I said.
But of course, that isn't true. This is a health plan that really is something that everyone should do. I'm telling you...I feel so much better, all the way around when the massage is over and for weeks afterwards.
Anyway, Kathy laughed when I told her that I needed Angela.
"She doesn't give her husband massages," she said.
Knowing the wife-husband dynamic, I feared that Kathy was probably right. Why would a wife give a man what he really wants and needs? That would be like showing weakness, right?
Before I get in trouble:
I visited Angela yesterday and told her of the pain. Then I asked the million dollar question.
"I've given my husband one massage," she said. "He's not the sort of guy that would get a massage."
"Why not?" I asked.
"He's a man's man," she said.
Oh, I get it. A big, tough guy.
The massage began. Am I a woman's man for getting rubbed down?
I don't even care. I feel so much better today and will feel even better tomorrow.
I'm thinking of getting a pedicure.
I wonder what my brothers might think.
Again! I don't care!
Now a lot of guys wouldn't get away with wishing their wife were another woman, especially to said wife's face, but Kathy just laughed. "I wish you were Angela too," she said.
About a year and a half ago I was really hurting after the car accident on the skyway, and my wife dragged me to the spa. I'd been through pills, adjustments, rest and ice.
At the spa (I am tempted to call is a massage parlor, but that's something Anthony Weiner would do) I met Angela.
On that first visit, Angela hurt me with her pushing and pressure and unbelievable strength. Two days later, I felt like my back was brand new. I've been swearing by Angela ever since.
Of course, there's a funny aside to the first massage. Kathy had also gone and we had finished up about the same time and were sitting in the lounge area drinking a water.
"How was it?" Kathy asked.
"They spend too much time in the groin area," I said.
But of course, that isn't true. This is a health plan that really is something that everyone should do. I'm telling you...I feel so much better, all the way around when the massage is over and for weeks afterwards.
Anyway, Kathy laughed when I told her that I needed Angela.
"She doesn't give her husband massages," she said.
Knowing the wife-husband dynamic, I feared that Kathy was probably right. Why would a wife give a man what he really wants and needs? That would be like showing weakness, right?
Before I get in trouble:
I visited Angela yesterday and told her of the pain. Then I asked the million dollar question.
"I've given my husband one massage," she said. "He's not the sort of guy that would get a massage."
"Why not?" I asked.
"He's a man's man," she said.
Oh, I get it. A big, tough guy.
The massage began. Am I a woman's man for getting rubbed down?
I don't even care. I feel so much better today and will feel even better tomorrow.
I'm thinking of getting a pedicure.
I wonder what my brothers might think.
Again! I don't care!
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