We were with our dear friends Margo and Jeff in Maine. We had not visited long when the classic story of me and my travails came up about receiving a massage at Montetcontini Terme while we were staying in Tuscany. This was over 10 years ago in 2014. Jeff and Margo had been telling MJ and me about the beauties of massage and how well the attendants performed at Montecatini Terme. I had never received a massage but had often thought one would be good for my aching back. During the late 70s and early 80s when I was taking MJ to the chiropractor I wondered if he would work on my back as well.

The first matter of business was to purchase swim trunks as I had not packed any. The four of us went to several stores only to discover that the Italian sizes were too small for a giant… Jeff said with a big grin that I could wear my dry-fit shorts for the massage. I was pleased. Margo and MJ began their massages while Jeff and I went to the steam room. I know I must have looked hot when Jeff brought me multiple cool water glasses.

MJ and Margo looked refreshed and renewed…then it was my and Jeff’s turn. The kind masseuse told me to completely undress as she held up what she called bikini underwear…made of paper. I protested that my friend had assured me I could wear my dry-fit shorts. She replied no and then showed me the front and back of the paper marvel. She said she would step out and I could change.

I put on the official massage garment and sat in front of a full-length mirror. There was nowhere else to sit. After looking at my reflection I was reminded of Buddha. When the massuess entered the room she instructed me to shut my eyes. I shut my eyes and they remained shut until an hour later when the massage was complete. She began by pouring oil over my head that ran down my face onto my chest. Then she said for me to go over to the bed. As I thought of my Buddha visage and the oil I became tense instead of loose. When we began the day at the facility I had been issued a white robe that did not fit and house shoes that covered half of my feet. As the massage concluded I noticed the attendant was washing my feet. She commented that my feet were so large with my shoes not fitting I would track oil down the hall back to the locker with my needed clothes…

MJ and Margo were looking relaxed while I felt haggard and worn. Jeff was smiling…

The paper bikini underwear was my only experience with the joys of massage…