It turns out my mother-in-law's gym is good for more than just torturous excercise. They have an on-site masseuse!
The gym is actually part of a large club that my in-laws are members of. It has a quaint little park that I take Gabi to while my MIL is in her spinning class. Today while we were there playing, my MIL ran back out and asked if I wanted a massage. $14 for a full hour. Heck yeah! And I practically ran back into the gym where the masseuse has her little room.
I probably should've waited until a day when I'd recently showered.
It wasn't until I was undressing that I realized just how dirty I was. The hot Brasilian sun and summer humidity are back, so I've been needing three showers a day. My whole body was covered in a sweaty sheen.
The new black tank top that I was wearing had rubbed black fuzzies all over my sticky skin. I hadn't shaved my legs or armpits (which were smelly and caked with deodorant) since I got here, I had a giant zit on my back and a rash on my ring finger from sweating so much, and the bottom of my feet were black.
I was also wearing white granny panties and a rather granny looking bra (which I had been instructed to keep on).
I stood there for a moment totally freaked out. Brasilian women are very beautiful, and very clean, and I was sure the masseuse was going to be disgusted. But I was already half naked, and really really wanted a massage. So I grabbed a towel and tried to do a bit of damage control, then crawled onto the table and under the sheet.
When she walked into the room, I couldn't help trying to explain myself.
Me, in my stilted Portuguese: I'm so sorry! I have dirty feet. My shirt is new and making my skin black! I have hair on my legs, and look, also here! The sun is too hot for me and making me sweat. What a smell! But I didn't have plans for a massage. If you don't want to give me one, I understand.
I was surprised she still worked on me after my little tirade, but at least I'd warned her. And, oh oh oh, the massage was amazing! Halfway through I started calculating just how many massages I could afford while I was here. By the end I was void of all thought and practically comatose.
As I was getting dressed, I noticed that I was wearing a pink bra, and for some odd reason, it brought me comfort. Like, despite all of my faults, at least my bra had snazz!
On the walk home my feet were so oily I could barely keep from slipping out of my flip flops.
As soon as we got in the house, I took a long, scrubby shower. Not that being clean and freshly shaved now helps the situation any. But I'm hoping she'll be willing to see me again next week, and I can redeem myself.