And What A Character

>I was cruising craigslist at the truck stop when I saw the ad - “Miss Danu’s World Class Massage. My low back and legs were already killing me on my drive from Chicago to Minneapolis. This should be just the ticket! Over the phone she sounded like a sensible kind of bodyworker Full body, professional, payment in cash. I gave her my estimated time of arrival, noon Yes! Ready and set to break up the long drive with some hands-on relief and relaxation! She came to the door, a woman of a certain age, hair longish and loose, dressed in black. The place looked respectable enough. There were Halloween decorations dotting the porch and living room.The hookahs on the shelves gave me cause for pause. She followed my gaz. “Oh those… a collection from my time in the Middle East. Strictly for smoking tobacco steeped in fruit syrup. Ever tried one?” “Not recently.” She got me situated in the studio - candles, a fresh glass of ice and pitcher of water. Something was playing in the background, was it “The Phantom of the Opera? I hoped she would put something more relaxing on in short order - maybe elevator music? Knock, knock. In she came wearing a witch hat. “What’s this?” I asked. “Well, in keeping with the season I thought you might enjoy - massage by a witch.” “Sure, whatever." I wouldn’t have to see anything anyway, face down in the headrest. Why not let her have a little fun, just humor her. I was enjoying her skillful style and the tension was melting right out of my areas of concern. “Nice hands.” I complimented her. Too soon - “Time to turn over?” “Fine. She switched the CD to something foreign and rhythmic, a little too upbeat for my mood. The next thing I knew she was doing something that looked like a belly dance. Happily that only lasted for a minute or two. Is she a witch or a belly dancer? At this point she put on some lush piano music That’s more like it. Finally. I surrendered my feet to the start of side two. Love those pressure points; The massage moved right along as she struck all the right notes; Why not a little entertainment here? Got to give her credit for a little creativity. No harm done. My hour of respite was fast coming to an end.; It’s always over too soon. She was finishing with a scalp massage and a few light strokes on my face when an old, familiar song came on and she sang along THE END (but no happy ending).