Could You Just Relax?
What is it about the words gift bag that turns seemingly polite, professional women into raging, catty bitches? You would think that an event called Girls' Night In would be reminiscent of prepubescent slumber parties replete with snacks, facials, and sisterly bonding. While last night's event at the Agua Bathouse Spa at the Delano did come with free mini-facials, the sisterly bonding was apparently checked at the door. After stepping into the elevator with two other gals, we were shoved to the back by four bespectacled thirytsomething women who all resembled Kennedy, the onetime MTV VJ who hosted 120 Minutes (who is not to be confused with the singer Lisa Loeb, although Kennedy's first name is also Lisa, as is mine, yet it's not spelled that way, but we do all wear glasses, but I digress).
"We've been waiting for, like, an hour and a half!" one huffed. The woman on the other side of me rolled her eyes and muttered, "Um, more like five minutes." Then Kennedy look-alike number two began yelling, "I can't do this! Let me out! I need to get out!" as the elevator operator frantically started pushing buttons to get the door open. "I told you that we needed our own elevator," snapped Kennedy look-alike number one. "She can't handle this." The claustrophobic Kennedy bolted while her friends stayed along for the ride. "You will come back for her, won't you?" While the gentleman assured the woman he would, she said, "Well, I don't trust you, so I'm going to come back down to make sure that you do."
Damn, bitch! This is a spa event. It is supposed to be relaxing. It is times like these that I wish Quaaludes were still legally prescribed.
I finally made it into the serene, white spa and was beginning to feel the calming energy when I accidentally came between a hungry woman and a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Before I could even see what food item was being offered, a set of acrylic talons swooped over my shoulder and grabbed every last morsel -- including garnish -- off of the tray. Not one to start a cat fight, I shrugged it off and went in for my free mini-facial.
My esthetician, Gina, had me lie down on a comfy spa bed and she covered me with a soft towel. "Just close your eyes and relax," she cooed. Okay, that I can do. She proceeded to cleanse and massage my face with soothing Doctor's Dermatologic Formula products, and I completely forgot about the ruckus in the elevator. While it only lasted about five minutes, the treatment was pure bliss and I left the spa feeling simply radiant. At the end of the evening, I did manage to do some bonding ... with some free mojitos and a gift bag.-Lyssa Oberkreser
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