On Sunday I went to the spa, my indulgence for the year. I'm a regular; the staff knows me.
"Can I get you anything else?" she asks, handing me my slippers.
"Ummm...champagne would be nice."
"Got it."
I laugh.
I exercise. I shower. I put on the robe for a respite in the Tranquility Room.
"Chocolate would be nice, too," I tell the staff person.
"Just put more out," she says.
And she points.
The champagne is in an ice bucket. The chocolate selection -- artisanal, four varieties bred in tropical locales -- is laid out in hand-thrown pottery bowls.
I stare.
"I was joking," I say.
"I thought you read the e-mail. Valentine's Day special."
Oh, right.
I sip. Good. I eat. Very, very good. I don't have to remember. Enjoying is enough.
Candace
"Can I get you anything else?" she asks, handing me my slippers.
"Ummm...champagne would be nice."
"Got it."
I laugh.
I exercise. I shower. I put on the robe for a respite in the Tranquility Room.
"Chocolate would be nice, too," I tell the staff person.
"Just put more out," she says.
And she points.
The champagne is in an ice bucket. The chocolate selection -- artisanal, four varieties bred in tropical locales -- is laid out in hand-thrown pottery bowls.
I stare.
"I was joking," I say.
"I thought you read the e-mail. Valentine's Day special."
Oh, right.
I sip. Good. I eat. Very, very good. I don't have to remember. Enjoying is enough.
Candace
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