Good Lord, Don’t Show Me That

Every month, I get a massage. The wonderful masseuse I go to is extremely talented AND gives teachers a killer discount. Even if she charged full price, I’d go. It’s for my sanity and it’s a real fucking treat. It’s a win-win. 

Every month, because of said massage, I also get treated to a visual display that damn near gives me heart palpitations. 

I know I’m going to see it, so I don’t know why it’s always such a shock to my system. Just like damn clockwork, it happens every month. Still, it’s such a sight that no amount of preparation would suffice. 

I’m sure most of you are thinking that maybe my masseuse has a wall of mirrors in her room. So, when I’m hastily undressing, I get a real candid view of myself. Or, maybe, her ceiling is one big, fat mirror, so I have to stare at myself as my body spreads out and over the massage table. 

No. It’s much worse.

So.much.worse.

THERE IS A FULL-LENGTH MIRROR…

IN FRONT OF THE EFFING TOILET…

IN THE BATHROOM…

AT THE SALON. 

A.FULL-LENGTH.MIRROR.IN.FRONT.OF.THE.TOILET. 

In fact, the whole room is just one asshole mirror. 

WHO, IN GOD’S NAME, thought it would be a good idea to put a mirror in so people could view themselves on the toilet? 

I don’t care if you’re Twiggy or Daenerys-friggin’-Targaryen, no one wants to watch themselves disgrace a public toilet. 

NO ONE.

Not only do I not need to watch my toilet activities, I really don’t need to be reminded of exactly how fat I am. 

Before a massage, I should be readying my brain for zen thoughts, not being shocked clean off the toilet when I see how my gut, so elegantly, drapes itself over my lap and into the toilet bowl. 

If this wasn’t already bad enough, the toilet is way too close to the wall on one side. You have to practically become one with the wall just to sit on the throne of shame. It’s a real nightmare for germaphobes. And, for people who have asses that need to be given a wide berth.

So, why subject myself to this masochistic ritual every month? 

Well, quite simply, it’s because I have the bladder capacity of a thimble. Even if I really don’t need to go to the bathroom, my neurotic brain thinks I do and I spend the entire time trying not to have to use the restroom.

I know. It’s exhausting. 

So, as terrifying as the Funhouse of Horrors really is, using it is a necessity in order to fully enjoy my massage. 

These last few months, I’ve been trying to just not look.

If you’ve ever had to talk to someone with a boil smack dab in the middle of their forehead or a goiter growing out of their neck, you’ll know it’s impossible to not stare at the elephant in the room. 

It’s impossible not to look. 

Also, each month, I’m hoping I saw it wrong, and it won’t nearly be as bad. 

Nope. It’s that bad. 

I’ve even left a Yelp review for the salon*, but no one has taken the hint. 

 

So, I’m left with being reminded of how truly fat I am every month. 

Maybe the continued shock to my system is good for my heart? 
*My wonderful masseuse has no affiliation with the disgraceful mirror in this post. 

Author: fattymccupcakes

Just a thirty-something girl trying to love herself the way she is: fat, rolls, cellulite, and fabulousness.

48 thoughts on “Good Lord, Don’t Show Me That”

  1. I’d hate that too. I’ve been in bathrooms with mirrors on the side wall, but never directly in front!
    No matter where I go, I need to know where the toilets are. Oh God…..on a plane I need to be near the toilets in case the food trolleys come and block the aisle. The fear of wetting myself on a plane.😣😣😣😣 I have to pee before I do everything! Even if I just went 5 minutes ago. I often wonder if it relates back to my childhood….I wet the bed until I was 6. I peed in the classroom when I was about 7, Because meanie teacher wouldn’t let me go to the toilet! I peed on a shop floor once because my mother was too busy chatting to someone to hear me begging for the loo. I’m telling ya…..tranmatised I was.
    AND…..I’m always dreaming about being in dirty public toilets. I’m sitting there in disgust and there’s never a door so everyone can see me! What’s that all about??

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That is horrifying. My uncle had a phone installed next to his toilet (this was way before cell phones and cordless phones) and I thought that was the weirdest thing you could have in a bathroom. This takes the cake, though!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I wonder if there’s a mirror in the men’s restroom? They make these sucktion cup things for any surface. I’d get me some and glue cloth to the hooks and they’d go with me each time. Attach to mirror when necessary and look at pattern on my “curtain” instead.

    Like

  4. My gym also has a full length mirror immediately in front of the toilet. What school did these interior designers graduate from?! They should have their accreditation revoked! I have never seen myself from that angle before this joining this gym and I would have been just fine taking my last dying breath without seeing myself from that angle.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Bahahahahaha!!!!!!! Only YOU dear friend can manage to make a hysterical fucking post out of a MIRROR in a bathroom I can’t EVEN! Lmfao you truly are the best. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

    Liked by 1 person

  6. When we were looking at houses, I made a point of sitting on all the toilets (lid down, thankyouverymuch) just to get a feel for whether the space worked. One of the places we looked at had a gorgeous shared bathroom upstairs, with a giant tub and great big lovely windows and a skylight. I thought, “isn’t that lovely?” and sat down… then realized that the full-length window was directly opposite the toilet and overlooked the whole neighborhood.

    Picture it: you’re relieving yourself of a morning, probably not fully dressed yet, and someone pops out to grab the paper. Looks up. HOLY FUCK WHY, WHY DID WE EVER INVENT THE CUL-DE-SAC, WHYYYYY???

    I share this not because it will actually make you feel any better right now, but because I really want you, next time you’re stuck looking at your own nekkid lower half folded around a pooper, to imagine you’re looking out over a quiet suburban neighborhood instead. Imagine people tending their gardens and looking up to admire yours.

    I’ll show myself out.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Wrap your mind around this one: I once got up from the toilet and glanced out the window directly in front of it to see my neighbor’s husband standing at our dividing fence staring. Right. Into. My. Eyes.

      He held the stare for too many beats. It telegraphed the fact that he had watched me before, knew exactly where my head would be when I rose, and knew the spot along that fence to stand for maximum coverage (or lack thereof).

      Thank god that window only went down to stomach level because I’d been in there nekkid before. Come on, we’ve all taken the last minute pre-shower dump and then pretended to be French by following up with a long power wash. Who needs a bidet when there’s a thumping massage feature on the shower head? What, too much information?

      So, naturally, I lost my shit with this guy. (See what I did there?) I planted an insane amount of bamboo in front of that window and I never, ever dropped trou again before drawing the heavy velvet drapes as well. It could be a middle-of-the-night pee at 3 AM and their windows could be dark over there but I don’t trust the bastard.

      Anybody who feigns back pain so he can remain unemployed and sponge off his wife, yet go BMX bike racing every month deserves testicle warts.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. The family is morbidly dysfunctional and they possess the only cat on this planet I hate with every cell of my body. Pretty sure I’ve seen people aim for the little fucker with their cars. Speaking of cars, the mom rolled two SUVs in six months, totaling both with the kids inside. The son will stay in the closet until college if he knows what’s good for him; the daughter showed budding sociopathic tendencies at age 5, killing random plants and creatures in their back yard while giggling.

        And all this is nothing compared to the chain smokers to the south. I need a rich husband in the hills, FAST.

        Liked by 1 person

  7. The bathroom in my parents’ house used to have mirrored doors… 😐 One time a new friend came over and used the bathroom, and he shouted from in there, “Holy shit! I can watch myself pee!!” He loved it. TBH, I was used to it, and before the age of cell phone perusing, it offered some entertainment I suppose (and opportunity to dissect my appearance, which was not as useful).

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Yep, sitting on the toilet is probably one of the least flattering positions that someone finds themselves in, so why on earth would anyone want to see exactly what they look like?? Some people really don’t think when they’re designing things. Hopefully they take your comments on board!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Well, this is just creepy as fuck.

    I’ve been to A LOT of practitioners, from reiki to massage to acupuncture to myofascial release, and I’ve never even heard of such an inappropriately designed treatment room. I immediately landed on the possibility that it’s all a subtle emotional manipulation. Anyone whose vocation addresses women’s physicality in such a direct and intimate way is aware of the tremendous anxiety most women feel. And if they aren’t aware of it, they are either psychopathic or, well, they’re psychopathic.

    I take no pleasure in typing this, but….

    1. The mirrors might be positioned to intentionally make you anxious, to put you in an emotionally vulnerable state to make her treatments seem even more relaxing and valuable because she’s releasing all this tension you weren’t aware she was triggering in the first place. If you’re tensing up in anticipation of an experience that’s supposed to be soothing, sumpin’ ain’t right.

    2. She may have a covert narcissistic streak that requires domination over perceived threats. Narcissists are experts at undermining confidence and making you doubt your own instincts: “The mirrors make you uncomfortable? I never thought of it before.” “You should love your body.” “I just thought they looked pretty.” “They help make the room seem larger.” “Why are you so down on yourself?” “It’s to help women see their own beauty.” “Just ignore them.” Notice that none of the above responses acknowledge or validate your feelings. Never underestimate a narc’s lack of empathy. A lot of these sneaky assholes enjoy working in healing and instructional vocations where they can exercise unchallenged power over others.

    3. Break the damned thing across from the toilet “accidentally” and see if it is replaced with another mirror or a saner design option like a beautifully framed inspirational quote. Maya Angelou, for the win.

    4. Is this the only massage therapist in town? Why do this to yourself? Don’t you deserve the best day?

    –NOT OPTIONAL– Bring a full-sized flashlight in your purse next time, stand very close to each mirror, and shine it in. If you can see any space back there, get the hell out of that place, the hidden cameras are rolling.

    The above may sound far-fetched and paranoid but I’ve seen some shit in my 47 years. And I happen to be a therapist, after a fashion. The first rule is meeting your client where they are. If they aren’t comfortable and you don’t see a reason to change, you are not a match. No fuss, no muss, move on.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The salon is actually run and owned by someone not associated with my masseuse. She HATES the mirror too. So, she truly has nothing to do with it. If I’m recalling correctly, I think she even tried to get them to remove it. It would be difficult, though, as the whole wall is a mirror.

      I think your point about it maybe being about subtle emotional manipulation might have a thread of truth to it. Perhaps the salon owners feel it’s a good way to make a woman feel down, so that they can then lift them up with their beauty treatments?

      That’s pretty deep, though. I think it’s just a poorly thought-out design and nothing else.

      Like

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s