We had no kids in our house last Saturday night, (thank you, Mom) and Brad rode a hundred miles in a race that day, so he limped out to the car and I drove us to dinner at the Mikado.
Let me just remind you, he eats stinky nasty seaweed and fish sushi. I admire the beauty of the sushi and try not to get my nose too close. Because that shit smells, you guys. And it tastes BAD. I will gladly and proudly eat my salad, miso soup, and vegetable tempura. I won’t feel bad about not liking sushi WHATSOEVER, so if you want to pontificate on its health benefits and how awesome hipster cool it is, do it somewhere else.
We were sitting at the sushi bar talking, and I made a comment that cousin Amy wants me to look into scheduling a few activities when we all go to Grand Cayman for my 40th birthday. Namely, cousin Amy wants to have some special massage at the Ritz-Carlton Spa (Yes, that’s where we are staying. Feel free to send champagne to Piper Benjamin’s room.).
Here’s the gist of our talk:
ME: So, Amy wants me to book a spa treatment for her when I book mine for our trip on Grand Cayman.
BRAD: (mouth full of sushi) Mmmm hmmm.
ME: It’s this massage called the “Caviar Massage”, but I don’t know what that means…I’ll have to check it out. Because I don’t want caviar put on my body. That’s gross. It’s probably not real caviar…but whatever. Plus, the massage costs like $225!
BRAD: Wow!
ME: I mean, for $225, you’d better look and feel dramatically different or be getting a GOOD FINISH.
BRAD: No kidding, huh?
ME: I’m totally serious!! For an hour-long massage, that’s really expensive. I would totally be OK with paying $225 if there was a good finish. Maybe I would insist on it. I’m just saying. So if you decide to get a $225 massage, I’m telling you that it’s alright with me if that includes a good finish. I give you permission.
BRAD: Well, I might be able to get a good finish, but not you.
ME: What are you talking about? That seems totally unfair. How lame. I should have just as much right to a good finish as you. Plus, if it makes you feel any better, that doesn’t even sound appealing to me. That’s the last thing on my mind when I get a massage. How embarrassing. It makes me think of John Travolta. But STILL, if I wanted one, it’s only fair.
BRAD: Whatever, Piper. Like I’m just gonna say to someone, OH YEAH! GO ON AND HIT THAT AS MUCH AS YOU’D LIKE!
ME: You are totally straying from the point. I said nothing about “hitting it”. That’s a totally different act. When I think of massage and a good finish, I am thinking of a different good finish. With the hands.
BRAD: I can’t believe we are having this conversation.
(long pause)
ME: Wouldn’t it be stranger if we weren’t having this conversation??

