Queen for a Day

I decided to take advantage of my free time today and cashed in a gift card to a local day spa. The treatment I scheduled turned into a surreal journey to the Egyptian afterlife.

This was not my intent.

The Chocolate Body Wrap description on the spa's website was tantalizing - "organic chocolate truffle masque has more anti-oxidants than green tea, is super hydrating, and well…smells amazing! An application of sugar plum massage soufflé makes this an unbelievable experience!" As a lover of all things chocolate, I was hooked.

Sadly - as is often the case - sales forgot to talk to marketing and reality fell way short of the promise.

I signed in at the reception desk, changed into the giant spa robe, and was escorted into a darkened, windowless room. There I was told to recline on what looked like an embalming table - and which was about as welcoming.

And so the body wrap began. Instead of a coating of luxuriously warm chocolaty goodness thick enough to apply with spatula as I had imagined, the "chocolate truffle masque" was instead a light application of oil scented with what may have been a drop or two of cocoa butter. Or not.

Under dim lighting, I rested flat out on the table while the esthetitian applied the non-truffly goo. Suddenly, as if floating from above and looking down at my greasy self, I conjured up an image of high priests attending to an Egyptian queen on her way from this life to the next and no matter how hard I tried I could not shake that image. Past-life regression, anyone? I started to giggle.

Eventually, I felt layer after layer of warm towels piling on top of my entire body. Strips of smooth linen and a coating of resin would have been more appropriate for Egyptian royalty, but nubby terrycloth was all I got.

Next - and this is the best part - I was encased in sheets of plastic from my neck down to my toes. Not exactly an earth-friendly product choice but at the time I wasn't in any position to protest because I couldn't move. No longer Nefertiti, I was now a tightly wrapped human burrito. Thankful that my brain had not been removed through my nasal cavity, I was left to poach for a good fifteen minutes within my plastic tortilla. I'm sure some people find this restful. I found it claustrophobic.

Finally, plastic and terrycloth were removed in reverse order, and after some tidying up I was ready to face the world again. As I left the spa, I realized two things. First: Human beings should never be wrapped in plastic. Second: Chocolate should be eaten, not worn. On the way home, I stopped off at See's Candies and treated myself to a couple of dark chocolate butterchews.

Caveat emptor.