Well, That Depends

Random memory to share before I drift into a failed attempt to sleep:

On the outside chance anyone reading this doesn't know me on some level, I'm a teeny, tiny bit obsessive about physical fitness, dieting, and other things that go along with that.

For a number of years, I've worked out at XSport Fitness in Downers Grove, IL. I love it there. It's a personal haven for me where I can always escape and work out the world's frustrations in a number of ways. Alas, as much as I love my XSport, the experience over the years at the Salon and Spa could be described as a little "hit-n-miss." It's a lot better now, but man it's come a long way!

A year or two ago, this girl (who had a rockin' bod by most malnourished standards) with the brain of an artichoke worked the desk for Spaland. She proved to me over time she had absolutely no recall whatsoever. You'd think after a year or so of tanning for the same amount of time in the same bed and signing in with the same person might trigger a memory for her, but it did not. I got to the point where I just wanted to have fun with her one day. I booked a massage with my favorite therapist and prayed I would be checked in by the bronzed toothpick queen of the western suburbs.

My prayers were answered, and I had the following conversation. If I use "..." that equates to about ten seconds of silence.

"Hi there, what brings you in today?"

"I'm here for a massage at 2:00. It's PAMPER DAY, " I said flapping my hands, not unlike a giddy schoolgirl who just got a note from handsome Jake.

"Spoiling ourselves today are we," she asked with a smile.

I replied, "No, I'm just really, REALLY sick of Huggies."

"... Are you serious?"

"Depends."

"..."

"My appointment is with Kathy."

"..."

"You can tell her I'm not wearing a diaper."

"...Ew, gross."

Every which way I interpret her last response, it gets funnier in my head every...single...time...

Goodnight!