Please don't touch my face...or my feet!

If you were to know me you would probably know that there are two things I hate - strangers touching my face and anyone touching my feet.

So for my birthday (june 25th just in case next year you want to buy me something) one of my good friends brought me a hefty voucher for spa treatments. I have been putting off using them until I realised that it sucked and I should really be thankful and have a treat.
So I went today and had my eyebrows waxed and a facial - well bloody nora the woman (i'll call her Judas for now) started off by telling me to get in the bed without my shoes and socks and anything on top. Yes bed. It was made like a bed with a sheet and then a pink quilt over the top which had tassels and beads.
At this point I'm already wanting to run screaming but I bit down and did as she said.
She then starts doing things to my feet - I think the purpose was to relax me, it didn't work.

She then takes a look at my skin under a maaasive magnifying glass and starts dressing me down about it being dry and making me recite my cleansing rituals. Fine. So. Then she starts doing the whole facial thing - at which point my stomach starts having a conversation with itself.
Then she starts squeezing my frikkin spots!!!
WTF

Ok so go back to me saying I don't like strangers touching my face again WTF - Let me rephrase that - strangers shouldn't pick other strangers spots - that is the rule - just don't do it.

THen she starts massaging my face and neck and shoulders and seriously it feels likes she's trying to rub my shoulder blades away.
She then puts on a facial mask and starts tapping with her fingers on my forehead.
I tell you I had to think of my poor dead grandfather to stop myself from laughing.
Along with other choice moments of hilarity, me having to dredge gruesome thoughts into my head to stop laughing and my stomach now playing a symphony (nothing for lunch!) I wasn't even remotely relaxed. Then thankfully after an hour (yes an hour - of someone touching my face) she stops and chimes a frikkin bell over me.
Now what the fuck was that for? If you know and someone must please enlighten me.

Oh in my ranting I forgot to say she continually rubbed grease and shit into my freshly washed hair and then proceeded in massaging my head so I looked a little like Edward Scissor hands but no way near as good-looking.

All in all, I love my friend dearly and I would never tell her it was one of the most painful experiences but sweet jesus please no more facials - please just no more facials.

Song for the day
Costa (It's a Beautiful Day) by Reno