M: So, E, you know how much I love a good voucher deal.
E: Do you? This is news to me. Are you a coupon snipper?
M: No, E. You are totally out of date. This is not like that at ALL. During my year in Singapore, I was practically addicted to them.
E: I see. Tell me more.
M: Thanks to vouchers, I have done the following:
Eaten pork buns
Fed a manatee
Had my hair rebonded
Had a pedicure in an electric massage chair
E: OH MY GOD (except I do not know what “rebounded” means). This is amazing! Induct me into the church of coupons!
M: More about rebonding another time. When Groupon got in touch to see if we wanted to review their deals, I said “WELL DUH”
E: DUH. You were politer than that, yes?
M: Not really. Anyway, they gave me £30 to spend on something.
E: And what did you pick?
M: I have to say this first of all, E. Groupon UK is nowhere near as hilarious as in Singapore. Where are my sheep placenta pills? Why am I not being offered an afternoon of prawning?
E: What the fuck is prawning? Is it sexual? It sounds sexual.
M: It is not sexual. It is fishing for prawns. No, it is all very sensible, desirable things, like massages, facials, affordable hair cuts and what not.
E: Well, ok, so Groupon UK isn’t quite so exciting, but it might be useful, so tell me, what did you pick.
M: I went for an “exfoliating massage” and Decleor facial. For which I paid an extra £9, so £39 in total for an hour and a half treatment.
M: I had to wait 3 weeks for this, because I am clearly not the only Londoner who is suffering from massage withdrawal syndrome. It has been months, E, MONTHS since I was last wrapped in banana leaves.
E: Hmph. My cold, black capybara heart bleeds.
M: I should think so. So I turned up at this very non descript salon in Marylebone.
E: Meh. What was it like inside?
M: He he he. It was like a portal into Moscow. Everyone in there was Russian.
E: Ace. You stumbled upon a rare OLIGARCH’S NEST.
M: YES. The only other customer there was peroxide blonde with a large, shiny new Louis Vuitton bag. It was quite awesome.
Also: the TV showed “in the night garden”
E: AHAHHAHAHAHHA WHAT THE FUCK. Makka Pakka, come exfoliate me with your sponge.
M: There were so many questions racing through my head at the time. Like: what the fuck and: are they going to steal my kidneys.
E: Valid questions, both.
M: Especially when I was led into the basement, down a tiny, winding staircase
E: To the kidney extraction lab?
M: It certainly looked like it. But I need not have worried, E. It was AWESOME. My therapist was lovely. I ended up asking for no exfoliation, just a massage, which was very good. She would massage some bits, do parts of the facial, massage other bits.
M: IT WAS AMAZING.
E: Because most massages are shit, sadly.
M: Pfff. you know nothing. I almost fell asleep. This is quite an achievement for me.
E: Well, maybe I’m just unlucky, but I’ve had a lot of stroking. Stroking, and half-hearted patting. Do not stroke me! PUMMEL.
M: The facial massage was particularly good. There was tapping, lifting, kneading, all sorts of things. I wished it would never end. And afterwards my skin was plump and glowing, as it is supposed to be.
E: Well, that sounds excellent. I mean, it’s not prawn fishing, but hey.
M: Yeah. The morale of the story, E: take a chance with Groupon. It will undoubtedly be funny, and it may also be good.
E: I will start cutting coupons RIGHT NOW.
M: Groupons, E. Groupons.