Few weekends ago I traveled to Mohonk Mountain House ( http://www.mohonk.com ) in New Paltz, NY. My best friend Suzanne and I rode up together, she likes to drive she’s …. you know…. American. I do not like to drive, it has never been one of those things that I want to do, which is why I live in Washington, DC and will always live somewhere that personal transportation is optional.

I should let you know at this point that I was horribly ill, the flu or some nasty cold had taken hold of me. I was full of snot and sneezing, groggy and a bit grumpy. I made do cause I wanted others to have a good time.

Suzanne and I stopped to eat at one of her favorite restaurants near NYC. All the servers were dressed up in white jump suits, had sideburns and reminded me of Elvis. I hate Elvis. But the food was good (yes, I was stuffed up and couldn’t taste anything, I’m being nice.

When we arrived at the Mountain House, I was about ready to collapse. This place was huge, beautiful and just stunning. The staff were there immediately to take our bags, check us in and make sure all was good. I found my bosses, smiled and nodded and moved on to dream world.

Sleep did not come easily, I found myself awake on numerous occasions with limited breathing and fits of coughing or sneezing. So rest I did not get.

Saturday morning, Suzanne and I went off to the breakfast buffet, I still feel like crap, but I’m putting on a good face…. so I think. Then Suzanne and I both had spa treatments scheduled so we headed off to do that. The spa services menu at Mohonk is quite extensive, several which include them inducing you into a “power nap”. I don’t know about you, but paying someone to put me to sleep is not a pleasurable way to spend money. I chose the back revitalizer, a nice back scrub and massage.

So a woman arrives in the staging area, and calls my name. I think that this is very nice of them to have staff come escort me to my masseuse. She leads me to a room with a tub, tells me to get in. I don’t recall this as part of the description of my treatment. I look at her a little confused, she asks me what’s wrong. I say, well, first off I asked for a male masseuse, she says: oh, is that a problem. “I guess not” I say and get in the hot tub. The whirlpool tub is actually very nice, hot and scented. She leaves me in there long enough to tenderize all of my organs for harvesting by cannibals. Then she returns to escort me to a room, “disrobe and lie on your back cover up and then i’ll come back in”. She is the professional, but I am wondering how she plans to do my back if I’m lying on it, but I do as she says. When she re-enters the room she says, “good, now we’re going to start with an exfoliation and then I’m going to lead you into a power nap”. Ding! “Now I know this is the wrong treatment!” I say loudly. Turns out it was, they had screwed up my order and the bath was considered a “bonus”, even if I didn’t like it. Once the treatment started that I was actually supposed to be getting, it was very nice.

The dinner that night was a mandatory part of the trip for work, jackets required for men. I wore a nice mock turtle neck, some tan pants and looked pretty sharp. Suzanne wore a nice outfit that had shades of purple, mostly I liked her shoes. I might mention at this point that Suzanne is beautiful, she really is…. she’s had a boob job, is very skinny, always has men looking at here butt in department stores… mostly, I like her shoes. One of the people from work, came in with his girlfriend, they were a lovely couple; when he removed his jacket, I saw that his V Neck sweater was on backwards, I mentioned it to him and he ran from the room to change it. Everyone had something to drink, I had a cold glass of water that I dropped two Alka-Seltzer Cold and Flu into. That is the last I remember of the evening.

Sunday morning, I could actually breathe… which was nice. I slept most of the night and was feeling a little better. Not 100% but better. The breakfast buffet was nice again, I had some pancakes and Suzanne had some fruit. The fruit caused Suzanne to be “green beans”, all the way home…. and she said: ‘please don’t write about my “green beans” on your blog’ as she rolled down the window. The ‘green beans’ were all I’ve been able to think of since… So truly this is a story of ‘green beans’, the first few paragraphs here are to mask my true intentions. I’ve become obsessed with her ‘green beans’ and the fact that the ‘green beans’ were not detectable by me… I had a cold!

It is my understanding everyone had a good time on our excursion, even if they were exposed to ‘green beans’.