Massage night. Overdue.
"Comrade!"
"Comrade!"
I can't be the only one who discusses politics with her massage therapist. This is our normal greeting. I've been seeing him for nearly 20 years.
More chatter. What's on telly. I impart that I'm going to get my takeaway and go home to watch the new episode of Rivals on Disney+. I've been told I should watch Riot Girls on SBS On Demand. We have similar taste in these things. He's also been told to go see The Sheep Detectives, because that is the best film EVAH!
Regardless, I get my massage. I let him know that I'm running pretty well. Just a funny right knee, which I'm trying to rehab, the rest of me is fine.
We talk about life on Bridge Road.
"You know that Annie Lewis Wine Bar has closed down?" he tells me.
"No! My French group used to meet there. Bugger."
"And the wine bar up the road is gone."
"Atlas Vinifomo?"
"Gone."
"My mate is going to be unhappy. He met his husband there."
"All change it is. The Malaysian place on the corner only lasted less than a year - then again, it was an old bank building - who'd want to eat in there?"
Talk goes back to my body. I mean, I'm naked and prostrate under warm towels. It's what I'm there for.
"So, your hip's out a bit," he mentions.
"I think it's throwing out my knee a bit."
"Probably."
"You know, it's funny. This started a few weeks ago."
"Anything changed? Gym? Exercise?"
"Well, now it's colder, at night, when I go to bed, I turn off the light, roll over onto my stomach and within a minute or two, Lucifer comes and settles between my knees. That leg is the one that is on top - it's his bed head."
"And you wonder why your hips a bit stiff and you're knee's playing up?"
Bloody cat!
Looks like I'm going to have a sore knee for a few more months. My massage therapist says he has a couple of clients with cat related injuries just like mine. The cat, due to its sleeping preferences, causes aches and pains for many people.
I'm glad I'm not the only one.
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