Spa Lougie

Imagine standing barefoot in the snow, the wind chill is below zero, and your teeth are chattering. The night is crystal clear and every star twinkles like rhinestones on a midnight-blue velvet dress. Orion’s belt slowly rises on the eastern horizon and shades of green brightly undulate in the northern sky. A blast of icy wind sends chills over your body as your breath dissipates in a misty cloud. You take a deep breath and sprint across the snow-covered deck. Bounding into the 102-degree water makes it feel like a boiling pot. You ease into the soup while Walzie sings “Chestnuts Roasting”. That’s a winter Saturday night in our hot tub.
For years, we thought there was something a little bit risqué about getting into a hot tub. That silly idea must have come from watching too many movies. Our first hot tub experience occurred when we visited our friends Ron and Robin who live near Lancaster. They had just built a new, lavish home, complete with a spa, and they invited us to come see it during the Christmas holiday.
The 25 feet high entryway with its crystal chandelier made my jaw drop. We wouldn’t sit in the living room for fear of soiling the white furniture and carpeting. They hustled us hillbillies into the family room where we sat on floor pillows and watched the television that was a big as a Jumbotron. Through the opposite window-wall we noticed it had started to snow.
“Hope you guys brought your bathing suits,” Robin said.
We laughed, thinking she was joking.
“Oh yeah,” Ron added. “There’s nothing like soaking in the hot tub with the snowflakes falling. It’s really beautiful.”
Walzie and I looked at each other like cornered rats. “Uh no,” we said in unison. “We don’t do hot tubs.”
Not one to take no for an answer, Robin quickly ran upstairs and brought us bathing suits. Walzie nearly panicked. I know he was praying for his jungle-rotted feet to fall off. No amount of refusing would deter Ron and Robin.
Ron snapped on the outside lights and we saw the spa on a snow-covered deck about 50 feet from the house.
“We gotta go clear out there?” Walzie balked.
“Come on you two big sissies. You’ll love it.” And Ron took off running towards the spa. Robin, carrying a tray of Margaritas, pushed us from behind.
We were freezing. They laughed at us. We eased into the water. Walzie was embarrassed and they laughed at him. But, it was really relaxing and immediately warmed us. Ron turned on the jets. It massaged Walzie’s back and feet; he actually liked it. It was unbelievable how comfortable it was. We finally relaxed and enjoyed the snow along with the hot bubbles.
“This does wonders for my arthritic knees,” Ron said.
“You think this would help with my aching back?” Walzie questioned with sincere interest.
“Absolutely! After my car accident, the doctor actually prescribed spa therapy,” Robin told us.
Suddenly, the back door of the house flew open and their twelve-year-old son (who was exceptionally large for his age) ran towards us as if he were catching a Hail Mary pass and did a cannonball into the center of the spa - so much for keeping my hairdo dry.
A few months later, we were sitting in our own hot tub spa on the deck behind our house.
And so our friends, Robbie and Brenda, came over to marvel at our new purchase. We were a little reluctant to let others into our spa, but with a little coaxing, I finally caved in. Walzie’s mind was set; there was no way he was getting into a tub of water with anyone who was not his wife or grandchild. So Robbie, Brenda, and I eased into the spa. We chatted, laughed, and enjoyed the jets that by now were sucking all the soap powder out of our friends’ clothing and creating quite a frothy head in the water.
All of a sudden, Brenda sneezed. I saw something shoot from her mouth and I thought, “Oh geez, my friend hocked a lougie in my tub!” I was horrified.
“Brenda,” I shouted. “Did you blow snot in my spa?”
“Nuh uh,” she mumbled through her fingers. “That was my false teeth.” Poor Brenda was mortified.
“No problem,” offered Robbie. “I’ll get them.” He dove like Shamu to the bottom of the frothy little ocean and water sloshed over the edges and splattered the deck. Shortly, Robbie emerged brandishing his wife’s teeth like a prized seashell.
Walzie, who had been watching the whole incident from behind the glass sliding door, was rolling on the floor with laughter.
We finally decided that our spa was not for recreational use, but only for medicinal purposes. It takes away all our aches and warms our toes on those cold winter nights.
And, oh yeah, I guess Santa will be bringing Brenda some Polygrip next Christmas.