May 1, 2011

Masssage Parlor Whoopsie

I've been beat up many times in my life. Usually it's more of the emotional nature and I bring it upon myself.  What I'm about to tell you, however, is not my fault beyond I didn't have the courage to walk away. 

My friend Ivan took me to a massage parlor last night.  Both of us needed a relaxing evening and it was inexpensive so I was all for it.  $20/hour.  You can't beat that price.  

It's a foot massage place but they work on your head and upper back as well.  I should have known I'd be in a world of pain when my masseuse, Tony, asked me if I wanted hard or gentle.  My response has always been hard at massage parlors.  There's nothing worse than lying there for an hour while someone barely gets beneath the top layer of skin.  I want to hit them about 15 minutes in to shock them back into the present so they focus on the muscle.  

Jolly Foot.  That's the name of the place.  And Tony was indeed jolly.  He started laughing when I said hard and made a crying motion with his hands as if to say, you asked for it, you'll be crying and it won't be my fault.  Hooray for him!  Someone just gave him permission to go all out!  And I sickly felt proud of myself for giving him such a pleasure. 

I'll just cut to the chase.  It felt like I was being stabbed. Yes indeed, I felt like crying.  And the smile that started it all? Tony kept laughing, giggling actually, at my pain.  A few times I wanted to stop the whole ordeal and walk out but my MN toughness and the thought that if I could give birth, surely I can handle a massage, kept me from getting up and leaving.  

By the way... Giving birth is not sexy like this image for a nonalcoholic beer would have you believe: 
I took the towel that was placed over my eyes off a few times and begged with him to be more gentle.  Yes, yes, he would reply and then gouge his thumbs, and uncomfortably long fingernails, into the bottoms of my feet.  And this lasted for one hour.  I kept thinking about Jack Bower and what he would do.  I knew he would be able to continue and I drew strength from the Jack's image in my mind.  Jack Bower, I'm as strong as Jack Bower.  And hey, at least I didn't have a faucet dripping endlessly on my forehead to drive me insane.  

It could have been worse.  It could have been this:

Oh, and I thought about shoes.  Will I have to buy new shoes?  Is he spreading the tendons of my feet so far apart that I will now be 1/2 a size larger?  I would hate to have to invest an entire years salary repurchasing Louboutins. 

Thankfully the right foot wasn't as painful as the left.  Perhaps I stand more on my left than on my right.   At any rate, after a few body manipulation stretches, it was over.  

I thanked him and tipped him as well.  I just don't have it in me to withhold a tip when someone in the service industry has done their job, no matter how horribly it's been executed. 

And then I went and spoke with the owner to find out what had just happened.  It was explained to me that I'd just had traditional Chinese massage.  It's true, the Chinese are much stronger than us Americans.  Especially if this is what they endure for relaxation.  

I woke up this morning with an aching body.  My feet, oddly, are fine.  I hope this means that toxins are exiting my body and I'll see a few pounds drop on the scale as a result.   Oooh boy, that would most definitely make this ordeal worthwhile. 

Enjoy the Sunday.  It's a day for relaxation, and if you're me, a day to recover from being beat up on a Saturday night.  

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