on a massage table

Another covert habit I have on cleans involves a tennis ball but no dog. My hero of a massage therapist in training, Julie, showed me how to pleasure myself with one of these guys. Dude. Seriously. It is the shiz for shoulders. I back up to a wall and position a tennis ball in a good spot and just work that shit. Eyes rolling back, trying not to groan too loud: full shoulder-gasm. There’s pain, and then there’s Goddamn good pain.  

This is so helpful that I don’t even mind that she didn’t get the frozen shoulder diagnosis right. Thankfully, it’s tendonitis. My tendon is being pinched by the muscles around it that are overworking while the little muscles are in the background drinking Mai Tais. The Mai Tai comment was from her supervisor Tobin who came in to check me out. I have no idea what this guy looks like, but he had clean feet in sandals. He mentioned doing I, Y, and T exercises while lying on my belly.  I love that neither of them mentions the extra 30 lbs I’m packing around. Respect. Mad Respect. 

I’ve been told that in newly finished homes, there’s often a clearly defined hammer hole in a wall—a calling card from the construction crew. I have been known to violate a fresh, perfectly sanitized toilet before leaving a clean. Timing is everything. After that fourth-degree episiotomy, I can’t hold things in like I used to. I wonder what the average age is for humans to learn to control their farts. The strange thing is, my snatch muscles are strong, but then again, they aren’t holding back a fart force to be reckoned with. And yes, I have shit my pants on occasion. When I get the message that something’s knocking on the door, I have less time than I used to, to make arrangements. 

I’m sure I’m not the first one to feel a fart coming on while on the massage table. I bet they actually address this in their massage course. ‘When your client farts, do not react, even if you’re feeling faint.’ There I was, having her dig into my armpit, which is a huge part of the shoulder issue, and I feel a fart knocking on the door. I do the butt cheek clench, I’m no rookie in fart-holding finesse.

excerpt from Chapter 9 of Alexine Cleans

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