It Is So Nice to Get Stoned

"Is this your first time?" Diana asks. "Yes," I say. "You don't have anything to worry about," she says. "This is a proven technique. Not only that, we use very special stones here." "What do you mean?" I ask. "Aren't all stones the same?" "Oh, no, no, no," she says. "Different stones have different healing properties. For example, I wouldn't put a volcanic stone, which is most effective on the spine, on the back of your arm. That might actually cause irreparable damage," Diana says. "Huh. Well, I'm glad you're a professional and know these things because I sure don't," I say.

All this time my face is pointed at the floor. The floor is unremarkable. "So, you mentioned special stones?" I say. "Oh, yes," Diana says. "You see, we are the only massage parlor in the United States to use moon stones." "Moon stones? Like they were harvested at night?" Diana laughs. "Not quite! The stones we use here come from the moon," she says. "The boss is in the good graces of NASA, so is allowed to use moon rocks, I mean stones, in this establishment." "And these stones are better than anything on Earth?" I ask. "Oh, yes. They contain special celestial properties that stones on Earth simply do not have." "Why don't you advertise that?" I ask. "People would flock in here if they knew that." "That's really the boss's call," Diana says. "But if I had to guess, I would say cultivating a small, loyal customer base is better than just having people come in and out of the door all day." "Ah, I see," I say.

The session begins in earnest. Diana carefully places moon stones along my spine, starting at the base. They are lukewarm. "So not to burn you," she says. The room is silent. Diana removes stones from the water, one by one.