A Lump of Dough

Uh, no .... this is not a recipe.

This is how I feel right now, after a massage. I've been kneaded, pummelled, squeezed, twisted, ...short of being cut up and shaped into twisted little breadsticks and baked, altho I may as well be.

Ever noticed the masseurs never really look like the mountain-sized Igors and the Helgas we see on teevee playing the role? My tiny slip of a girl masseuse, is such a petite little thing, you'd never imagine her to have enough energy to lift a bag of flour, never mind massage and roll over a beached whale like me. Oooh but aaahh and ooohh...she IS strong! And a lump of dough I am in her capable hands. I surrender!

I've been to a good number of spas and massage places (massage parlours sound kinda seedy) and have my experiences with different massage people, masseurs, masseuses (?), ...spell it however which way you like. Balinese, Javanese, Thai, Japanese Shiatsu, Chinese and some I don't even know what they call themselves. The Indonesians told me, after noticing I was holding back tears and the veins nearly popping out of my forehead, that if I can't stand the pain, I shouldn't be doing this. So that's off my list.

The Thais masseurs seem to think everyone is as pliable and flexible as they are and the way they flipped me over their knees, backwards, really made me think they were trying to whip me into shape for the next olympics. Either that or they're in cahoots with some pysiotherapist or spinal chord specialist. They're off my list too.

The Chinese masseuse, actually imported from China by the health center, seemed to believe that pain is the cure to everything. No pain, no gain, right? Wrong! This time, there were no near tears, it was real tears! I went with 2 other friends and they were in different rooms and they said they could hear me yell from where they were. The lady masseuse, fortunately, didn't get annoyed with me, in fact, she was laughing so hard, she didn't even notice she was inflicting more pain on me. Inwardly, I thought she was into S&M and that she was thoroughly enjoying my agony. I was in more pain than when I stepped into her parlour...said the spider to the fly ... cheez. Off the list.

Hey, I may be the only one complaining here. I go to these people through recommendations, so they're good at what they do, but unfortunately, it's just not for me.

When I finally found my teeny, tiny, strong as a mini ox masseuse, I stuck with her. And I've insisted on her and her alone to torture me all this time now for the last 3 years. I actually feel good after the sessions and have always wished the hour would drag on a little longer. But then, her fragile looking arms might just fall off. Psst...don't let those arms fool you. You really don't want to piss her off. Ouch.