Fifty Five Minutes Massage

Somewhere between the "FUCK YOU" and the "YOUR MOM'S N'OLD HAG" and the "LAST TIME YOUR IDIOT BROTHER CRASHES IN OUR PLACE", Steven noticed that the rain sure had become more and more cerebral. It was like the skies and his wife were singing on the same tune. In a split second of quietness he was able to slip in a humorous thought of how maybe there should be a job opening for wife-whether-man. We're expecting sunny skies in the morning and a bad case of bitchiness as night grows near, he'd say. Not a good day to be taking your wife out for a vacation that's for sure. Steven was amused by the idea as a soft breath of a chuckle grazed his upper lip. But then another thunderous boom blasted in the darkly heavens and another fiery stare from his wife Helen and that weak grin collapsed back to a full-on scowl. Boy, what a miserable day those two were having.

The plan was simple and mapped out two months in advance. After sixteen months from their last vacation, which was so happen to be their honeymoon, Steven and Helen Cruise decided it was time for a much needed break. Since Steven started working as an accountant for a young internet-based company on Broadway and Helen got a job as an assistant for Martha Basil, a hotshot New-York wedding planner, the lives of this fairly young, childless couple, have become a complete and utter dull.

They decided on taking a weakened off- no work, no punching numbers in a calculator till your fingers goes raw, no calls in the late evening by a crazy bride-to-be who suddenly decides her favorite color is yellow and a call from an even crazier Martha who will tell you to call this person or that person so everything is changed because the bride changed her mind. No nothing.

Just serenity.

They will have a nice peaceful drive, they will eat good food in a fancy restaurant, they will get a nice soothing massage (Make sure you book us to a place with a spa, Helen told him with scintillating eyes, I'm dying to get a massage and be all pampered), at night they will make love and at day they will make some more.

And so our loving husband found a great little bed and breakfast in the serene town of Lock Haven, Pennsylvania- Tubman's Inn. Spa, tennis court, satellite TV, swimming pool, humble staff, Serenity. You name it.

But sometimes- shit hit the fan, as Steven would so eloquently say.

The drive started so nice, they were like two sixteen years old driving to the cinema, knowing that they're going to make-out for the first time, half way into the movie. They were chitchatting and laughing along the drive on how they were the oldest youngest-couple they know, and instead of flying to Hawaii or Vegas they prefer a nice quiet bed