Ladies and Gentlemen, you may at some point in life decide that it is appropriate for you to purchase a spa day for your significant other as a token of your appreciation of them and all that they do. While these experiences are intended to relax and rejuvenate, they often distress and humiliate, so choose one wisely before you shell out a couple hundred bucks. Model parent, loving spouse, and all around Camarillo superstar Juliet contributes again this week with details of a spa day she undertook with a friend that her husband no doubt is still reminded of….

What happens at the spa…should stay at the spa (with my dignity)

By Juliet

My husband and my girlfriend’s husband decided to give us a spa day for Christmas a few years ago. How sweet huh? At the time my daughter was about 4 months old and my son just over 2. Needless to say, just the drive sounded relaxing. I was nursing my daughter at the time, and milked myself like a cow just to get away for 1 day. I also had to bring my breast pump along to the spa. How wrong is that? In between spa treatments I would have to relieve myself, and store the milk. I also sat on the bench in the locker room, with ladies passing by…what a sight! I didn’t care though.

So, my girlfriend and I were called for our first treatment. It is called “Kuyam”, some sort of relaxing scrub and meditation like the Chumash people used. As Ventura County residents, we’re all about the Chumash. We both thought it sounded pretty good and envisioned the same treatment. I pictured a table to rest on, covered with towels and a nice lady rubbing mud on my body. It was about as far from that as you could imagine.

We walked in and the gal there told us to take our robes off. We had towels on underneath the robes. So, you walk through these curtains and it feels like hell. It is so hot and humid it nauseated me and made me feel claustrophobic. In the center of the room is a huge boiling pot of potpourri, all around the room are blue stained-glass windows, and I am hearing a voice from over head saying “relax, breathe, inhale”. It sounded like a porn star’s voice which would typically excite one rather than relax them. This was not half as weird as the eight or so middle-aged women completely naked sitting on their towels, rubbing mud all over their bodies. The look my friend and I gave each other was priceless. That look said “What the fu*k?” I was contemplating running out of there, fast. But, I thought “let’s suck it up and be real women.” Life’s tough, I know…

So we found seats next to each other, and partially naked. I kept thinking, “Is my nipple touching her?” I am putting mud on my nipples and it’s going to ruin my breast milk (thankfully my daughter never developed that soil-eating addiction I feared as a result though)! The gal that actually works in there (shitty job huh-believe me guys these women were not attractive and neither was I at the time) comes by and sprays you with water on occasion and gives you a towel for your forehead. You see, they have to do this or you will become lethargic and dehydrated, and I can do that in line at Magic Mountain where I only have to pay $50 although it means standing next to large tattooed women named “Griselda”. My girlfriend and I are laughing uncontrollably, and cannot stop. We giggled and talked to whole time. We must have really annoyed the others in there enjoying the homo-erotic tension and guided meditation.

Just when I thought I couldn’t have been more humiliated……..the gal working there says “O.k. Stand up, drop your towels, and get in a single file line.” It felt like Jr. high PE. Now I am thinking this is some European jokes-on-you show? This is seriously wrong. I felt violated in so many ways. I felt like laughing and crying at the same time. I insisted that my girlfriend went in front of me. I’d just had a baby. My rear did not need to be seen by anyone, let alone my friend. So she took one for the team and went in front of me. Guess who was in the very back of the line? Me. We ran through a mist of cold showers, and scrambled to find our assigned showers. I’ll never forget seeing my girlfriend in such a panic to find her shower. I got in the shower and felt safe.

After it all finally ended we called our husbands to thank them for that experience. I actually said “What the fu$k? Did you read the description? I am so sending you and your friend to the men’s one!”

The moral of the story is read the descriptions and ask questions. Some people don’t mind getting naked in front of strangers…but we did, and doing so did not relax us. A seaweed wrap would have relaxed us. A full body massage with essential oils by a toned Latin man named Diego would have relaxed us. We found neither seaweed (although some of the women resembled it) nor Diego. Learn from my misfortune and do your research because it still haunts me. It’s the thought that counts, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions as they say, and my husband is going to love the spa treatment in West Hollywood I am buying him this year for Christmas.