Reflexology Class

Jess C Scott

"Angie, relax." Shanti looked in Angie’s direction. "You don’t need to overdo it."

Angie simply laughed.

The yoga instructor shook her head. “No one would guess what you really do for a living.”

“What I’ve done, you mean,” said Angie.

“Oh? You’re retiring? Remember to exhale…slow, deep breaths. Release the tension from your body.”

Angie stretched her leg muscles. “I’ve had enough excitement from my work as a secret agent. Besides, don’t you think my body deserves the break?”

Shanti nodded. “What’ll you be doing then?”

Angie glanced at Shanti, the corners of her mouth turning up just the slightest.

“Don’t tell me you’ve more plans to take over the world? You’re a young mother now! You have to learn to take it easy and relax.”

“Shanti, you’re over-reacting. You’re supposed to be cool and collected. You’re the guru, not me.”

“Let’s not banter, dear.”

“All right, all right.”

The two ladies were on the last section of their yoga routine.

“So...what’s the secret?”

Angie needed no time to formulate her thoughts. She had been toying around with the idea for some time. “I’m going to be teaching reflexology. But there’s a catch.”

“I knew it!”

“You’ll love it.” Shanti’s next client would be arriving in two minutes. Angie wasted no time. “You know how feet have pressure points?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m gonna start a class where people can learn reflexology—for grander purposes, other than ‘alternative medicine’, or ‘holistic healing.'” Angie drew quotes in the air to make her point.

“I’m not too sure I get you.”

“I’m tired of hearing friends complain about their significant others,” Angie replied. “The lack of attention. The lack of appreciation. The lack of affection, et cetera.”

“And?”

“So—I’ll teach them ways of wreaking havoc on their partners’ bodies. I picked up an ancient secret from a Zen monk on one of my travels, on anti-pressure points. He said people always laugh at him, until he demonstrates the method on them.”

Shanti raised an eyebrow. “How does it work?”

“Just think of it as reverse reflexology. Anyway, if all goes well, the recipients will think it’s a wonderful foot massage, something non-abrasive, you know. A reward for being ‘the special one’ in their SO’s life.”

“Hmm. When’s your first class?”

“Next Monday—I'm totally psyched.”

The doorbell rang. Shanti headed towards the front door, without saying a word.

Angie had a sinking feeling for a moment. Maybe she doesn’t think it’s a great idea, she thought. I would have liked her opinion. Maybe I’ll call her over the weekend—I do value her input.

Just then, Shanti turned to look at her. “Do you have any vacancies?”

“Yes, two.”

“Great! Count me in—and my next client. He’d definitely be interested. I’ll introduce you.”