| Article: | ZUCK: Magdalena and my first massage Up a flight of creaky wooden stairs, at the end of a poorly-lit hallway I open the last door on the left and step into a small but comfortably furnished waiting room. Soothing music plays softly in the background; a neatly organized table offers magazines about organic gardening, alternative healing, and vegetarian recipes; a friendly receptionist smiles at me from behind her desk. I step forward and carefully place my gift certificate, creased in many directions after spending nearly five months in my wallet, timidly on her desk. |
