Mexican Spa Experience

Mexican Spa Experience

The Mexican Spa ladies, Yolanda and Josie, sat outside on the back steps smoking.

“They sure have a lot of holidays,” Josie said, rubbing her hands together.

“What’s this one?” Yolanda asked. “Ballyntyne’s Day?”

“Who knows?” Josie chuckled, flicked her long ashes onto the sand. “I think it’s Martin Leather King somebody.”

Yolanda scrunched her eyes. “Who?”

“Maybe Benjamin Franklin Day.” They stared at the ocean. The sizzling noon sun baked them in their smocks. “I can’t take this anymore.”

“Me either.” Yolanda ran her hand through coarse, wavy hair. “I’m over this,” she said. “Working on fat, fucked up American women.”

Josie took a long drag on her cigarette. “Fatter, fattest,” she said, puffing her cheeks out like a blowfish.

They giggled, then had fits of laughter that seemed endless.

“Hey, Josie, your next client is here,” the manager called out the window.

Josie threw her unfinished butt into the ocean. “You mean, my next whale?” she said over her shoulder, popping in a mint.

Yolanda laughed so hard she farted.

10 thoughts on “Mexican Spa Experience

  1. Suzi

    Hey Rob –
    I LOVE this one! Having read most of the shorts you have, I’ve noticed that you have a real flair for capturing the little idiosyncrasies of people that make them so endearingly “human.” The fact that Yolanda laughed till she farted – who hasn’t done that?

    AWESOME!!!

    Reply
  2. Don

    You have a knack for controversial humor and handling it deftly. I think this piece is funny, but I can see how it might push buttons for others. And yet, the best writing ought to. Well done.

    Reply
  3. david

    Love it.. Love that.. I’ve been working on fat american ladies and let a slightly but deadly out.. grabbed the “aromatherapy” or coughed loudly when my ass was about to explode… nothing like the FABULOUS power women from DC: they would come to the spa in Arlington, right off the subway (metro) having had walked in the halls of government all day.. in pantyhose, thigh high boots, and wool skirt suits… then promptly at 645pm run up the subway steps into the spa for their 7 pm appointments.. the DELIGHTFUL fragrance that leaked from their moist crotches would remind you of a warm summer night while getting a perm in the Calcutta leper colony and the dying mother of my camel would vomit last night’s allo gobi…. DELIGHTFUL!!!!

    Reply
  4. Shari

    I was going to say this was a little on the mean side for such a significant holiday we have today. But then, I was laughing so hard at the end I thought, oh screw it. Too funny!

    Reply
  5. Dr. Crunk

    The craft of the piece comes into play when the reader is forced to dismiss the pretense of propriety having been overwhelmed by the relentless gasping of an old-fashioned belly laugh, interrupted by snorts!!

    Reply

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