Spa Day at The Four Seasons

“Can I borrow five dollars” 

“Why?”

“Because I need to tip the valet at the Four Seasons.”

“You’re going to the Four Seasons and you need five dollars?”

“Its cash, dude. It's dirty and it slows down the line. I never use that filthy stuff except to tip.”

"OK, OK."

My first world problem now resolved, I head off for Spa Day at the Four Seasons Hotel in downtown Seattle. 

I am unapologetic. I’ve earned this. And as you are about to read, you get what you deserve. 

The hotel is busy when I drive up. Annoying people from all over the world are getting in my way. I take the elevator to the fourth floor and am greeted with hushed spa music and muted earth tones. 

The front desk greets me by name and have made sure that there is a robe that actually fits me and that there are a pair of giant slippers waiting.

I change and go into the waiting room. This room is darker. The wall is lined with candles. Vaguely Indian sounding music gently chimes.

You know the normal water with cucumber or citrus that awaits you in a spa? Not here. Instead, it’s organic free range coconut water. And little healthful snack bars made of sesame seeds, goji berries, pumpkin seeds, cocoa nibs, and dates. I have seven of them.

Soon a large woman comes to get me. 

“My name is Gloria and I am going to give you deep tissue massage. You think you can handle that, boy?” ……or maybe she said Troy……

Soon Gloria is sticking her elbow in my back, pushing down hard with the help of her ample body weight. Things pop. Things crack. I would scream but I can’t because all the air has been pushed out of my lungs. 

I am facing head down, so there is already snot running out of my nose, but now I am crying so there’s basically a river of liquid pouring out of my head and onto the tasteful sandstone floor tiles. 

The deep tissue massage goes on for fifty minutes. I am all cried out and there is no more snot left in my body. 

“Time to get up boy”…..or maybe she said Troy….

I manage to stand up somehow and slip on the robe and slippers. Gloria is waiting for me out in the hallway with some organic free range coconut water. 

“I realigned a few things back there. Your neck should not hurt for a while.”

“Thank you?”

Gloria takes me to another room where Svetlinka is waiting for me. Svetlinka is going to give me an anti-aging facial. 

“Lay down. I will steam face.”

I do as I am told and soon I am being poached in lightly pine scented steam. Just as my now tender skin is beginning to separate from the bone, Svetlinka turns off the steam.

“Now we extract.”

She pulls out a long steel needle with a real sharp point on it. She jams it into every pore on my face, scaring out impurities. I cannot say that I enjoyed this. In fact, when she is finished I am sobbing. 

“Now we peel.” 

I hear Svetlinka mixing chemicals. There is a sizzling sound. 

“A warning. This will hurt.”

“NOW a warning!?!”

She brushes on the acid. I open my mouth to cry out in pain but she is ready for me and pops cotton balls in my mouth. Someone is now holding down my arms. I thinks its Gloria. 

After many agonizing minutes Svetlinka takes a very, very hot towel and wipes the acid off my face. My arms are released and the cotton balls are removed. A cooling lotion is applied to my face. 

“Now we work on eye bags.”

Svetlinka puts some kind of thick liquid on her fingertips. She applies it to the area under my eyes and on top of my eyelids. It tingles with the energy of newborn stem cells. Around and around she rubs, starting gently and then with more force, deflating my eye bags and smoothing out all the fine lines and wrinkles. 

Another very, very hot towel and then I am set free. I stagger into the shower room to clean off and get dressed. My face has the tight plastic sheen of Nicole Kidman. I cannot move my forehead or smile. 

Back downstairs I hand over the five dollars to the valet and head out for sushi, martinis, and another viewing of Wonder Woman.

.