deep tissue domination

As part of the little lady's birthday present back in February, I promised her that she could get some spa treatments when we were in Mexico. When I saw the price tag, I didn't really want to keep my promise, but went ahead and let her choose the two treatments she wanted most. I also decided to get a massage myself, since my back hurts quite a bit from all the sitting I do in uncomfortable chairs at work. It gets so bad that I can feel the knots in my back, and thus figured that a deep tissue massage would be just what my back needed.

I must say, this was one of the gayer more unusual experiences of my life. I was shown to a locker and was instructed to change into the ill-fitting robe and slippers I was given. With the robe only coming half-way down my legs, I'm sure I looked very cute. Once I was done with that, I was told to sit in a dimly lit waiting area until my masseuse was ready for me. This seemed a little weird--there no chairs to sit on, only several beds. There were drinks and snacks, magazines and newspapers to read, and candles all around. There was another guy waiting there, and he seemed just as uncomfortable with the situation as I did. Fortunately, I only had to wait a few minutes.

I was led to a cavern-like area with a shallow pool in the middle. There were several rooms on either side of the pool, and the entrance to each room was covered with drapes, almost like a tent. I was instructed to take off the robe and lay on the massage table, where I was covered with thin sheets, which were used to cover the parts of my body that weren't being worked on at any given time. Yeah, just a tad uncomfortable. The slow gurgle of the water in the pool, the dim light and the new age elevator music in the background made for a relaxing atmosphere, but man, did this Mexican woman have her way with me. I figured that "deep tissue" meant that I'd get rubbed pretty hard, but I didn't think it meant that she'd push her elbows super-hard into my back or pull on my neck the way she did--a day and a half later, it's still sore. She pulled on my fingers, arms and legs until they cracked. Despite all this, I had to stifle the giggles at various points during the experience, especially at the end, when she signaled the completion of my massage by walking around the bed with a triangle and ringing it. I don't know if this is a ritual in some country like Tibet or what, but come on...could we be any cheesier?

Ultimately, it was a good experience and I'm glad I did it (well, not price-wise, but it's only in China that I've gotten bargain massages), but it was really odd...and not exactly masculine. It wasn't any wonder that every guy that I saw in there looked like he was embarrassed to be seen in there. I'm sure I had the same look on my face.