my spa day…

So, here it is DECEMBER.

SO let me start by tell you about Gift Certificates.
in my house for many years there was a variety of them.

last year my hubby got me – no wait- two years ago my hubby gave me a GIFT CERTIFICATE for a spa here in Wisconsin.

I was thrilled because it was a) first GC that was not hand written. b) it was actually paid for. Meaning: he did not just print something off a page of the website and say…I am going to get this or you should go and pick this up…

Let me back up and explain…in this house there are all sorts of G.C.’s. I owe you one morning of sleeping in, a back rub, taking the trash out, etc…..I have joked many times about the above GC as being false…

I.O.U one back massage – really means: between the hours of  ” I am not home and never”, and when you finally ask for it – “DO you still have that paper I wrote that on? ME: no  HE: then it is void now. just like a real voucher, without it – no good… figures.

Or I laugh about getting the ones that are pieces of paper printed from a website and how about how I am going to take those to the place and ask for my free item that my husband got me – hand the paper over and be escorted to the looney bin. Then of course I would try to pay off the cop with my old back rub certificates ;), or one morning to sleep in.

BACK to my story…I got this great gift. Due to life…I did not get to use it. I called them and was a day over the expiration date and they would not budge. Money – gone. My first G.C. – gone gone gone…

So last year he gave me another. TRY and TRY again ? TODAY, I  went to use it. It has taken me a full year to find the time and it was going to expire and I refused to lose the money again. IT was still in the orignal “gift” package it came in. I had not lost it, bent it – I had it! This alone was an accomplishment in this house. TRUST ME…in this house this is the stuff that happens – everything disappears, or destroyed…Just this am hubby asked me /told me – Jen why is there a foot/shoe scuff mark on our toilet? I went in to look and it was not a scuff…IT was MY MASACARA…now I have three tubes…but I refuse to figure out which one was used as toilet decor…see things disappear and/or get ruined.

quick debriefing:  JUST so you know yes, I think it is a privilege to get to go to a spa – yes, I am lucky to have it and all that jazz….so don’t worry don’t worry I know, I know…I sound snobby. I do not mean to be. I am well aware how great it is…I was equally as happy that it was a real card 🙂 

Forward on: I went today. I went with my sister-in-law. I looked forward to it. We got there
…and well…
Here is my story, the story of my real experience with my real gift certificate:

We were told to go to an alternative door (very secret agent like, without secret agent results). Once we entered it was a ? pit/mess/not fancy. From there the unfriendly ladies – albeit they looked good, fancy escorted us down a trash.linen.dirty hallway (THE BACK hallway) to the locker room that was pristine and great. SO far, half good half WHAAATTT? Why was this the entry – because…wait for it…THEY are doing a renovation – the floor to be exact. Never mentioned that.

THE FLOOR – which requires a machine close to a say  – jack hammer.

yep. jack hammer like noise. so relaxing…nothing says relax like your brain rattling to and fro. In some way my brain said, look I am home.

My massage was good, after I was RUSHED to get in there… – so no complaints and all kuddos.

We then decided to get lunch. Which turns out is all an open area and directly above where they are JACK-hammering / sawing what ever, the fun noise was.  It was so loud you might as well have been naked in the sidewalk of new york as they erected (funny word) a skyscraper. (wait do people call them that anymore? you know one of them tallish buildings in a big city)  we got our appetizer…laughing, YELLING at one another.

THEN my brave sister-in-law complained, had to go to the front desk to do it because no one else (wait we were the only fools trying to eat) but no staff cared about us. AND if you know anything about me…I am a huge wimp!

HUGE. I would rather complain to you folks, or cry in my sleep then complain. I once came home and cried because I could not get service somewhere…and let me tell you – it was not a pretty woman event. I was told to suck it up and deal with life…and if you read the line before this…well I have yet to do that.

We waited – she came and said our meal was coming out – NO wait, she came back and said: we are going to move you – We were then taken to one of the hotel rooms and got to eat the rest of our meal next to a bed and tub…nice but odd. Well, only odd if sitting in a robe in a cozy romantic room with your family member is odd. IT did look like an amazing shower – super cool, but not really a shower moment. At this point and a mimosa later…it was just comical. Our day consistent of noise, rude people, being reprimanded ,slips, spills and other people’s bad swim suits.

SO, I made it home, alive and well. We laughed talking about it. In the end I still had a nice day. I got to use up my real gift certificate…and when I walked in the door, the first thing my girls wanted, was pedicures.

My girls wanted their toes done. Not because I did. I did not. They remembered I said I would sometime, like a real pedicure. Even had A GC made for it. I can honestly say I took the time and treated them like I would have wanted my spa day to be and they are thrilled…even if they did not turn in their Hand Written G.C.  I honored the request…only that someday when their dad gives them a real one – they know what to really expect 🙂

About snotarant

i am a janitor, maid, haus frau, mother to a five pack, a listener, a hugger, a sigher, a happier, a wine lover, a foodie, a hunter, a gatherer, a cook, a wife, a mother, a triplet mom, pedicure lover, a hugger, a crier, and sometimes just me... AND beware. I write like I talk...a little - well un-correct.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s