My husband's birthday gift was ruined by a Crisco chugger. So today I took my husband to a spa for what I wanted to be a relaxing couples massage. It was a birthday gift and he'd never had a professional massage before. Called ahead beforehand to make sure the place was reputable, was satisfied with prices blah blah blah. We get there and my husband instantly notices that there are no skinny, or even chubby, masseuses. They are all complete hams. I assure him not to worry, I'm sure the women working on us will be just fine. Well of course, I wouldn't be making this post if that was the case. Two grotesque creatures greeted us. I got lucky and the woman assigned to me was slightly less grotesque, but my poor husband was stuck with a physical manifestation of Tumblr. Fat rolls and poorly done tattoos, painted on eyebrows, and before she even opened her mouth I could hear the HAES logic. I politely smiled at both of them, trying to just relax and reassure myself that in a dimly lit setting with peaceful music my husband would be able to relax.  After the oxygen thieves walked us back to our room and left us to get changed my husband mentioned how disgusting his masseuse was and I tried to console him, telling him to relax and to try his best to just not think about it. I was raging on the inside, knowing that part of him would be miserable for the next hour and a half we were supposed to spend with these butter lumps. All in all my massage was great. I felt relaxed and was able to enjoy the experience as a whole, despite the occasional worry of how my husband was doing. I would glance over at him every so often and he seemed okay, relaxed enough given the situation. Our massage came to an end and while we were getting dressed I asked him how everything was. He knew I'd planned this as a special occasion and he didn't want to upset me, but went on to inform me that at times he was trying not to recoil, that the Crisco binger who was just rubbing all over him made him really uneasy, as it would make anyone of normal size and sanity feel.  At first I was sad that his experience was tainted due to something completely out of my control and then I just got pissed. I was filled with rage on our drive home. This place was upscale with prices to match, and they have people like that working there? It is completely ridiculous and unfair to paying customers with normal, healthy BMIs. Shouldn't there be some kind of standard for a profession that involves such personal contact? I was going to keep a membership at this spa, but fuck it. I refuse to give my money to a place that tolerates such lack of self control and awareness at the expense of their customers' experiences.  TL;DR: Tried to treat my husband to a day at the spa for his birthday and it was ruined by fats. I will never go back, and there should be industry standards for people hired to literally rub all over other people.