Fall 2011
I am going to massage therapy school in San Diego, CA. For my Swedish massage class I am required to have a minimum of 16 massages outside of our class time by the end of the semester. Because of that some of my classmates and I get together often to practice and coach each other on giving massages.
It's a Friday night and my classmates Beatriz, Christine and a few others are over at my place having a massage party. My roommate, Naenae is expecting company anytime as well. So we have two massage tables set up in my front living room with two naked girls (under sheets of course) on the tables. The smell of marijuana permeates my apartment, almost as if we are enjoying it ourselves (my neighbors are frequent pot smokers).
A knock sounds at the door, I open just enough to see who's on the other side, expecting Naenae's friend. It's two Elder Mormon missionaries! I slam the door fast, without a word. I didn't know what to do or what to say to them. I turn around and say something to my friends about missionaries being at the door. Christine and I slowly open the door ajar to stick our heads out and tell them they have to go away because we're having a massage party. I'm sure the missionaries got a good laugh, felt awkward or both, I sure did.
Namaste
NOTE: For those not associated with the Mormon religion, members commit to living high moral standards and no substance abuse including, but not limited to abstinence before marriage and sobriety.
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