So come with me, if you will, on a little journey. A journey of sight, and sound. A journey where one soldier comes to grips with his sexuality, and calls into question all that he has ever believed about spa's and chick stuff. Yes, my day has been very, very gay...
Today started out ordinarily enough. I woke up 10 minutes before I was supposed to be at the USO to catch the bus to some shopping trip that I signed up for yesterday. However, since I was up until 3 in morning last night playing around on the internet for no good reason I was in no mood to get out of bed and go. So I went back to sleep for another 2 hours. No problem. This place isn't like the regular Army where if you miss anything they send a hunting party out to find you. If you aren't there they just go to the next guy on the list.
Then I actually hauled my ass out of bed at 1000 hrs. Enough sleep for me, gotta get moving and enjoy my second day of R&R. So I needed some clean clothes so I made a pit stop at the laundry and threw in a load, I then jumped into the shower and washed my ass, twice! Still got AssCrackIstan on me, trying desperately (probably in vain) to get that stink off of me.
Then I went and found Duby. We had a few errands to run. Dropping off clothes at the dry cleaners and stopping by the post office to mail some drug paraphernalia home. So we got that done about 1300-ish, and decided that it was time for some much needed sustenance. At first we figured we would take the bus over to the chow hall, but then it dawned on us that lunch is only served until 1300 and we probably wouldn't make it in time. So we racked our brains a little bit. Pizza, no. Burger King, nah. Popeye's Chicken, Nope. Subway, close but no cigar. Ah, I've got it let's go the Chile's! That's right they have a Chile's here in Qatar. Just like the ones back home. Except for the non-alcoholic pina coladas and margaritas. Which to me is like reaching back with your pimp hand and slapping God in the face. Not good people, not good at all.
Now, I am a big boy and when properly motivated I can put down Chile's food like a 130 pound Chinaman in a hot dog eating contest. And so I did. Here is a breakdown of what I had this afternoon.
1. Triple Play appetizer. Southwest egg rolls, mozzarella sticks, and hot wings. Oh my.
2. Side salad with ranch dressing.
3. 12 ounce rib eye steak with french fries and broccoli with melted cheese.
4. Molten Chocolate Cake.
5. 4 Coke's and a glass of milk with the chocolate cake.
In the immortal words of Pigpen, "Holy Jumping Jesus On A Pogo Stick" It has been a long time since I was that full, and that satisfied all at the same time. I probably looked like I had a perpetual orgasm going for about 45 minutes after I got out of there. Needless to say, I have been eating rather copious amounts of plated shit since I have gotten here. To actually sit down and have a nice, civilized meal with REAL food was about as close to sex as I am going to get over here. If only you could...uh uh, moving on.
And then the day took a decided turn towards the gayer side of life. Now before I tell you what happened let me say this.
Until you have strapped on a weapon in defense of your nation, and lived in the mountains of some third world hell hole, and burned your own shit, not washed with anything but baby wipes for any length of time, or dug dust out of the most ungodly orifices in your body, or any of the wonderful list of perks that come with being deployed, then don't judge me. Because I would be more than happy to whip your ass and show you just how gay I really am. (I know, it didn't sound right did it.)
That being said, here is what happened.
I had an hour long massage scheduled for 1900 tonight. Duby decided that he wanted to see what other services they offered at the spa and possibly partake. So I figured, "What the hell". We get over there and it turns out that they have the whole kit and caboodle. Massage, facial, manicure and pedicure. Fun for me.
Duby decides he is going to get it all, so I dutifully followed suit. Now I have never had any of this, save the massage, done before. I mean c'mon I have been to Korea. Who hasn't gotten a massage there. Any male who says he hasn't is lying.
Moving on, so I lay down on the table for my massage and the girl comes in a does her thing. And I fall asleep. Apparently it was a much better massage than I had initially expected.
Shortly thereafter I was awakened by the most searing pain I have felt in a long while. She had begun the facial portion of my spa treatment and was digging into my face with what felt like the devil's thumbnail. She was scraping in the nook between my nose and my cheek, on top of my nose, on my chin, on my cheeks, on my upper lip, and on my forehead.
Scraping everywhere trying to dig down into my face until she found my damn brain. And as evidenced by the caliber of my writing it was going to take her awhile. I mean I am a pretty tough guy, but I'll admit it I teared up a bit. Then she showed me a kleenex peppered with little blackheads and bits of dirt and shit. Apparently, this is what she had just finished digging out of my face. Wow, it's called soap dickhead!
So far this experience rates as yellow on the gayness mood ring. Now it was time to bump it up to red.
I went back out to the front and sat down in a chair and waited for the gayness to commence. And commence it did. The girl came out and had me take my shoes and socks off and put my feet in a scorching hot bubble bath with some little nipples or some shit on the bottom of the tub that felt absolutely fabulous on the bottoms of my feet. Then while she let my dogs soak, she went to work on my fingernails. She put some pink shit on there that she said was nail strengthener or some shit, then she clipped them down to where they should be. After that she scrapped the top of them with something that looked like a miniature scalpel and then dug around in my cuticles with a pair of baby scissors and repeated this process until my fingernails were about as pretty as they have ever been.
Now it was on to my feet. And ladies and gents, let me tell you something about GI feet. They are easily the most disgustingly rancid thing that God has ever put on this earth. You lace up a pair of boots everyday for a decade or so and let's see how your feet look.
So she gets down to it, scrubbing the bottoms with a belt sander and getting all the dead skin off. Rubbing my feet down with a combination of cocoa butter and lava soap. Then getting to work on my toe nails and doing the same shit that she did to the fingers to the toes. I was like, "Holy O' Shit man, my toes are pretty too!"
Well then, I have only one thing to say about this. To every girl I ever gave any shit about all the stuff that you guys do to make yourselves feel pretty. "I TAKE IT ALL BACK"
I see why you guys like to get pampered. Now I'll really piss y'all off. I don't know how much this shit costs in the states, but here the whole thing cost me $48.00.
Anyways, now it is off to get my 3 authorized beers for today. Stay tuned though, I've got some incredibly insightful questions over the past few days, and I am going to answer them sooner or later.
I love you mom...