SCREEEEEECH!
That was the sound of the van tires as I finally, finally, dropped all three kids off at school for the first time in five days. Between #1’s sore throat that kept her home Monday, Little Man’s double ear infection, and yesterday’s ice storm, I have had at least one of my offspring around me pretty constantly, asking either for juice or to play Wii, for the past three days.
Today being Thursday, S is was with LM so I could go to the gynecologist in the morning. It was my annual appointment, and after passing nine pounds of human out of my lady bits, an internal exam* seems like a manicure, so it wasn’t anything to stress about. I did leave feeling old this year though, having been given instructions to begin taking baby aspirin every day to prevent a stroke, since I have migraines accompanied by aura (which basically means, I go blind in one eye when I get one - very convenient when caring for kids), and a prescription for my first mammogram. H almost blew my ear off, calling to respond to my text, informing him of the new method of medical torture I would have to endure, asking, ‘YOU HAVE TO GET A WHAAAT?”, thinking I had found a lump.
Sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting to have our I-just-had-my-hand-up-your-vagina recap, I noticed all the pamphlets for laser hair removal and spider vein treatment. It seems all doctors these days are trying to horn in on what was once the territory of plastic surgeons and dermatologists and trying to get time-strapped patients to take care of that pesky mustache while getting their annual Pap smear. This got me thinking about two more combo businesses I have come up with lately.
You all already know of my dream, bookstore-wine shop-bakery, but during my massage at Disney, I came up with another idea. For those of you who have had a massage, you are familiar with the feeling afterward, when they tell you to “get up slowly from the table”, and you wipe the drool off your lower lip, blinking, even in the dimmed light. By the way, am I the only one who almost drools on the floor when she’s lying face down during a massage? True, I am a bit of a mouth breather when asleep, but I can not be the only one who has had to suck a string of saliva back up in to my mouth to prevent It plopping onto the toe of my masseuse.
Anyway, the masseuse meets you in the hallway with a cup of water and you are so out of it, you sort of bumble along next to her, back to the locker room, trying not to walk into the walls. You try to remember the combination to the locker, or remember where you put the dumb key on a rope thing, then fight your way back into your clothes as, no matter how long your post-massage shower, your oily skin makes sticking your arm back into your shirt like trying to fit a sausage into its casing. Clothes on, valuables collected, you are thrust back into the harsh light of day to face the world. Yuck.
My business combines a spa with a clean, luxurious, no-hookers allowed, by-the-hour hotel. Instead of having to join the real world right away, you can pay a hundred bucks for two hours in a hotel room with a king-sized bed with high-end linens and a bathroom with a giant tub. Let’s face it, the only thing one is equipped to do after a massage, is sleep, so why not make a profit? You can also get gourmet room service to end your day with some good food and a bottle of champagne. Genius!
My other idea is not so much a combination of businesses, but does require your booking a separate service, so it applies. Here’s the idea. Those of us with small children know how exhausted we are come the weekend. We need a few hours with no one asking us to put on another episode of Team Umizoomi, so we book a sitter and plan a night out with our spouse. Problem is, we parents are so tired, we don’t always want to go out and get dressed up and stay up late. Sometimes we want to sit on our couch and watch TV, unmolested, in the middle of the day. Or, as is the case with H, some crazy people find cooking relaxing, and want to cook a meal in their own homes without little bodies crawling up your leg.
My business idea is yet another hotel, but these are all beautiful apartments with gourmet kitchens, intimate dining rooms (to prevent people from using them for big parties and screwing up the nights of other guests), and living rooms with crazy entertainment centers and giant, comfy couches. These hotels are meant to be like your home, but better, cleaner, quieter, and totally devoid of toys. So book a sitter and leave your house so you can cook, watch TV, take a long shower (with shaving your legs and everything) or nap in a home-like environment. You can rent by the hour (again, no hookers please!), or by the day.
So who’s ready to invest? I think it’s sort of sad that none of my business ideas involve anything ambitious, like global finance, or meaningful, like education, but center instead around books, booze, sweets and sleep. But necessity if the mother of invention and, currently, I am lacking regular access to all those things that I consider necessities.
*Which is made exceptionally awkward by the fact my gynecologist looks exactly like Greg Kinnear and listens with such intensity, I swear to God, he is looking into my soul. Ask H, even he agrees the guy is dreamy. Dr. E is the only other man I shave my legs and armpits for.
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