For those of you who have read my previous blogs, I have already set the stage for this next post. For those of you who have not here is the short version of where I am picking up this story.
I was working at a 5 star inn here in Maine in probably the wealthiest Maine town in the summer, Northeast Harbor. My massage room at one time was used to house the executive chef. It was probably 12 feet by 12 feet complete with a full bath that had a clawfoot tub. It was awesome. The room was a free standing building over the maintenance garage.
To reach my room you had to climb a set of windy wooden stairs. There was no AC just a few windows that overlooked the ocean. Those windows produced a lovely summer breeze that would blow in the salty sea air.
I practiced hot stone massage and it was always a “go to” massage treatment on those cold, damp, rainy Maine days. After a hot stone massage I would wash my stones in the claw foot tub. After one of these massages I placed the stones in the tub and forgot about them.
A week or so later I had a client who had just come off of a bike ride. He asked if he could take a quick shower. I showed him to the bathroom, provided him with a nice fluffy towel and went outside to get a little sun. After I had completed the massage he asked me about the shower. I thought he was remarking on the cool clawfoot tub. I responded telling him I love the shower and the tub. He finally told me that although he enjoyed the beach like effect with the stones he did find it a little difficult to maneuver in the shower with all those stones under foot! I cracked up and of course told him that was not what those stones were meant for.