We were debating between 4 seasons and Mandalay, and 4 seasons won out because we could traipse down in our bathrobes. There was a nice comfy waiting room, cucumber water and fresh fruit galore... and a horde of really loud Texans talking about their latest dramas.
My esthetician was pretty perfunctory -- she asked the requisite questions, and then clammed up the rest of the session. no -- 'where are you from?' 'what products do you use?' 'your pores are so petite!' I dunno, maybe she's going thru a nasty divorce or something. don't get me wrong, I hates the chatty facial, but it was feeling weird. I remember there were lots and lots of masks. and decolletage and hand massages in between. in utter silence.
BUT THEN afterwards, she did not take me to the secret post-session relaxation room with the teas and comfy chairs! I was herded to the room with the Texans! Luckily, my sister (who had an amazing facial, she says) came tottering out to find me or I would have been sucked into the conversation about teenage sons and mustangs.