Happy "Jellying" part 2...
A few responses to last week’s entry noted that it was a ‘very nice blog on your massaging escapades. But what does over exposure have to do with Jelly?’
Ah, I told them, all will be revealed in part 2…
Here we go:
A new massage parlor opened up down the road. It specialized in Swedish and Chinese techniques. These were two methods with which I had no experience. Being of a naturally curious disposition I went online to check it out.
The site was all well laid out. Various massage options covering:
Length of massage
Type
Injuries et al
Of course, nowadays there is also the mandatory viewing of review and comment pages. Yes, all there and very well received.
Looking back, I should have paid more attention to the message stating: ‘no favors, strictly massage only.’
Hmm, no favors? Was the client asking for a price discount?
It has since dawned on me that the favors being discussed were a little more involved than the helping hand you usually give a mate – no pun intended.
Okay, I booked a session and it was great. The masseuse could not speak much English - I considered this to be charmingly authentic at the time. But boy did she work out the knots in my back - it felt great.
I duly booked another session for a fortnight later – specifying that I wanted the same masseuse next time.
I felt great, my back felt less tight and I didn’t smell like a walking cuisine. Two weeks passed and back I was. In my eagerness I had managed to arrive with time to spare. Waiting in the reception room, I looked down the menu of what else was on offer:
Indian Head Massage
Full body massage
Swedish
Physio
Shoulders and Neck only
15 min / 30min / 1 hr
Now my thought process went something like; ‘well if the back massage was so good then surely a full body massage would double good right?’
Decision made.
Mr TaT: “Hi, yes, can I book the full body instead?”
Receptionist: “The FULL massage?”
Wondering why there was an accentuation of the word FULL, I carried on.
Mr TaT: “Yes yes, if full is available.”
Receptionist: “Please take a seat.”
I was looking forward to this, it had been a heavy few weeks on the building site and I was in all sorts of twisted knots.
Receptionist: “We are ready, you may go in.”
I walked in to the massage room and was greeted by a new face. A little older than the previous, her English was much stronger.
Mr TaT: “Ummm, is the other one not working today?”
Older Masseuse: “She working.”
Obviously, she was not understanding that I wanted the same person.
Mr TaT: “Okay, will she be coming once you set up?”
Older Masseuse: “No, she no do FULL options.”
There was that accentuation again. I brushed it off a further time, I just reading into things.
Older Masseuse: “Okay okay, lets start. Clothes off.”
Mr TaT: “Yup, okay.”
I stood there waiting for her to leave so I could prepare. Obviously, she knew about the etiquette here – didn’t she? A tense moment followed before realizing this old gal was not going to budge.
Useful aside
There are some peculiar patterns that society has picked up over time. For instance, when getting breakfast at a hotel:
The host leads you to your seat – taking you past the food bar in the process. You wait to be seated only to then immediately get up and go to the self-service food bar.
It feels pointless, the host could save us all the trouble and just point at the seating table leaving us free to get food and THEN go to the table. Unless the additional steps are all that important, it serves little purpose other than to pay homage to some antiquated process well past its sell by date.
Anyway - rant over - for those not familiar with having a massage: there is a similar such peculiarity. Massage etiquette dictates that you strip off and prepare in isolation. You then indicate readiness to be re-joined by the masseuse. The funny thing is they still get to see you in netted tangerine glory. The only grace being saved is that you were not watched whilst stripping.
Aside over
She simply watched as I de-robed - awkward!
Anyway, we proceeded with the massage - it was pretty good. Not as deep as the last one, but the back was being worked on - the tension being eased out and lulling me into sleep. I think I even half snored, when all of a sudden...
Older Masseuse: “Back done, change over.”
Ah man, I could have slept just getting the back done – READ THE ROOM LADY!
I turned, and she carried on. Again, a few moments later and I was in sleep land.
Older Masseuse: “You asked for FULL yes?”
Mr TaT: “Huh?” I was sleepy but there was that inflection again.
Older Masseuse: “FULL yes?”
Mr TaT: “Oh yes, full thank you?” Could she not see that sleep had taken over?!
Now this is when it got weird.
I got settled again for ‘beddy byes’ as she was getting some more oil. Suddenly I felt a tug on my underwear - the only item I was wearing.
Wide awake now.
Mr TaT: “Sorry what is going on?” Pulling my shorts out of her hands. My voice shriller than I wanted.
Older Masseuse: “Relax relax, this is service.”
Mr TaT: “Sorry, no the last lady did without taking shorts.”
Older Masseuse: ‘She did FULL with shorts on?!’ She looked confused.
It suddenly became clear as to what was being inferred by ‘FULL’.
Mr TaT: “Oh god no! No no no, I do not want FULL, just legs and back and head. No FULL. You understand?”
Older Masseuse: “No FULL?” The confusion gave way to a smile. “No ending?”
Mr TaT: “Oh lord no!” Now red as a tomato and clinging to my shorts even tighter.
And this is where it got truly weird. So weird, and I think I will be needing therapy.
After realizing I was not after anything seedy she started laughing. In her heightened happy state she then grabbed the only thing to hand…my stomach.
Older Masseuse: “No happy ending, ho ho ho....jelly on a plate.” She was practically singing with joy, and then proceeded to shake my belly like a tower of bloody jelly!
Suffice to say I did not frequent that establishment again. One word comes to mind; VIOLATED
In fact, another also comes to mind…TRAUMATIZED.
LESSONS
Inflection can be all the difference between law abiding and law breaking.
Massage rooms are not always safe places.
Nothing will get you to a gym faster than an old woman grabbing your stomach and wobbling it like jelly.