The Massage

I have always tried to be aware of my testimony as a Christian and have tried to avoid doing anything that was questionable .  So it was with a heighten degree of caution, when I found myself with a tight lower back pain after over-doing it at the gym, that I pondered the suggestion that I get a massage at a nearby establishment.  I was told it was inexpensive and relaxing and I keep all my clothes on.

There! There was the key to making my decision!!!  I had no desire to place myself in a position where I was without clothes and have the possibility of the local police department raid the place!

This line of thought is not a strange figment of my imagination.  There have been some locations that may be called a “parlor” have had some…..”questionable” activities occur there.  My once innocent sister wanted to be a masseuse and  after seeing a help wanted ad in the newspaper, wanted to go for a interview.  When she showed me the address, I told her I didn’t think the business was on the level.  She went anyway, only to return embarrassed that my intuition had been correct.  She did not take the job.

So, as with most things I do, I researched the business by doing a internet search and become satisfied that they indeed do what they said they did.

Last Saturday, at high noon, I parked at the curb of the shopping center that housed the spa.  When I walked or hobbled in to be more accurate, I noticed the waiting area was not nearly as large as the webpage photo indicated and there were three occupants in the corner of the lobby behind the cash register.  They nodded and I nodded and I spoke to the smiling lady that it was suggested I get a foot reflexology massage, but I wondered if the chair back massage might be better for my situation.  She agreed by nodding and with a graceful wave of the hand that would have made Mike Morgan, tv weatherman, envious, guided me behind the thin floral curtain to the main room.

The room was dimly lite by spotlights featuring the lounges for the foot reflexology, the back massage chairs and some low massage beds.  All in a similar dark red color scheme.  I’m not a big fan of Asian decor, but it was their place and hopefully I would only be there for a half an hour.

I was a little surprised when the lady asked me to lie face down on the bed, since I thought I was getting a chair massage, but figured she may have thought I was too heavy for the chair.  So I removed my glasses and lay face down on the low bed, which had a cut out for my face to fall into.

It was at this point I began to think I should have looked around the room more to have a better understanding about who the participants were going to be.   You have to know I was nervous about the whole deal and at the same time wanting to get some relief from my back pain.

As I was becoming aware of the Kenny G background music, a hand touched my back and started making some circular motions that began to intensify from the initial light pressure to some levels that made me wonder if this person knew I was no longer a young man.  But then, the old Elkins pride of toughness kicked in and from my part, a competition of who would survive this contest began.

After a short time, I was glad I had been going to the gym to strengthen myself to resist the hurt this gorilla or Goliath was laying on me.  I determined I would not scream out or even cry into the little bucket of space for my face, but since he/she/it had not uttered a sound as yet, I choose to use loud breathing and groans to communicate.

Kong ran his hands over my entire body from my neck to my ankles.  I don’t think I have ever had my tush touched more in that half hour than I had in my whole life.  But when he was working the tender part, my lower back,  it caused me to grunt.  But it did seem to me, he did know what he was doing and did not overwork the area.

When my time was over, he finally spoke saying, “OK, sir”.  I thought I might need some help un-peeling  myself from the bed, but I was surprised I was able to do it without help.  Then I had to find my glasses, which was almost outside my field of vision on a table nearby.

I walked through the thin curtain again to find the three occupants again in the corner and realized Goliath was a small to middle sized man in his fifties.  I quipped, “Boy, you beat me up!” only to have him look at me with a puzzled look.  I then asked if he sensed anything wrong with my back, to which he pushed his phone toward me, hitting a button that caused the phone to say “nerve %#$&”.  It was then that I realized he did not understand English and was using Google Translate to talk to me.

The fee was thirty dollars.  They only take cash, but do have a ATM.  I gave the smiling lady two twenties and did not receive any change.  I was going to leave a tip, but I always like to be the one to determine that myself.

After a few hours, I realized the massage had helped me and thought I would go again.  Only this time I will bring exact change and then leave the ten buck tip on my terms.

I wonder, would it be wrong to ask for more work on the tush?  Yeah, you’re right, it’s probably better not to get used to it!!




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