November 19th, 2009
Massage Whore : A person who is obsessed with having massages daily, obsesses about the next massage, and obsesses about the (preferably female) masseuse who gives them the massage! (Courtesy: Kevin T)
One last time in Beijing.
We – Kevin, Matt, Eric, Yaw and I - arrived in Beijing the week of November 9th, 2009. This would be our last time in Beijing. It was cold – colder than Toronto, well into the negatives (Celsius – that is). It snowed twice that first week. I was glad of the thick winter coat and cashmere sweaters I had packed along with a beanie, leather gloves and a long scarf! I was going to need all that protection. I was a bit worried about my right foot. I’d broken it a few weeks ago, and it was still in an air-plaster “boot”. I couldn’t wear shoes yet, and only socks protected me from the cold weather outside. But I soon realized the boot had very good insulation against the weather, thank God!
The bad weather stayed with us all of the first week. Two snowfalls severely curtailed the traffic and our ability to go out. Most dinners were at the Club Lounge, with room service thrown in. So, in the meantime, what do you do when you’ve done all the sights, don’t have anything to do in the evening except hang out at the Club Lounge, and outside its freezing the b***s off a bronze dragon? Why, you have massages of course!
Eric and Yaw were already into the whole massage thing – they’d been exploring on their previous trips. So one evening, Kevin, Matt, Eric, Yaw and I headed to the massage parlor. There is no dearth of massage parlors in the area where we lived. We’d been to one ‘Family’ massage parlor – but now we decided to try the one across the street. This one was a little run down, the girls didn’t wear the sexy summer clothes, but what the hell – it was cheaper! We decided to do body massages. My foot had been encased in an air-plaster and walking for too long was painful, not to mention climbing stairs was not easy, hopping in and out of showers was really hard, getting into the back of vehicles was a no-no and slopes were scary for me.
The boys got double rooms each, while I was led into a cluttered room with a massage table in the center. They indicated that I get into the flannel pajamas on the bed. I did that and sat on the sofa unsure of what to do next. (Eric’s tales of “shrubbery” were wafting through my head at this point). My boot was off, but I kept the sock on the foot. A wizened, smiling old-ish man came into the room. He indicate I should lie face down on the table. He saw my boot and kind of signed to me what it was about? I told him ‘tong’ (Mandarin for pain/hurts) pointing to my right foot, and then making a breaking motion with my hands. He got it. I lay back down and the massage began. It was not quite what I was expecting. He was using his hands to rub me down. Quick, deliberate strokes. He gently pulled my sock off, examined my foot and rubbed some kind of lotion on it. Then he turned on an infra-red lamp on it. The heat was burning into my skin, but after a while, I could feel it glow warmly. Working my back he stopped at the bottom of my spine. Gently he parted the top and bottom of the pajamas and rubbed my spine along the exact spot where I have insistent pain. He grunted. I must mention that at this point, we conversed through grunts primarily. Then he sprayed some more of the lotion on my back and turned the lamp on that part. My stomach got the same treatment. With the rest of my body massaged (including my butt, but not my chest, I must add), he kept the base of my neck under the lamp for a while. Then it was time to get dressed, pay up and head out. I felt good. This was a good thing! I definitely wanted to do this again. I felt comfortable with “my” old man, with no sense of any impropriety whatsoever.
However, and this is where the massage whores come in, I had to hear the telling and retelling of every aspect of the guys’ massages and/or masseuses qualities ad infinitum, ad nauseum! How strong their hands were, how tiny they were, how they balanced on their backs without holding onto anything, how sexy they were, what their different techniques were, … ** yawn **! I only had an old man – how the heck were my stories supposed to compete? But get this, almost immediately we made plans for when we would do it next.
That Saturday afternoon, I was standing by the concierge’s desk, looking through some rickshaw tours. I really wanted to go to the hutongs. But I was wondering how I would do on the cobbled streets by myself, or get up and into the rickshaws on my own, when someone spoke to me. Indian, very Indian. I turned around. An Indian lady stood before me. Turns out she recognized me from our client site. Her name was Kiran, and I gladly asked her to join me, as I was waiting for the boys to get back from their hutong tour.
That evening we planned to do another massage session. Same place, but this time Kiran joined us. Which I felt was really good, as I had another woman to talk to while getting a massage. Once again, we landed at the same massage parlor. This time Kiran and I shared a room, while Eric, Matt and Kevin had one. I could hear the rumbling of their voices through the walls. The same old man walked in, and another girl. Kiran and I lay back, eyes closed as they went through their routine. I noticed that I was getting the “rub-down” treatment while Kiran got the more deep kneading massage. I wondered why that was. Never figured that one out. But my old man was really gentle with me. And gave me the same medicine as before, though without the infrared lamp. We also got foot massages. The soak in the warm water was really soothing to my foot.
Kiran soon became a part of our group. The next time we decided to go for a massage it was back to our old parlor. This was a parlor we’d been to in summer. The girls were now dressed in long harem pants with wicked high heels and low-necked blouses – much to the disappointment of the guys. This was their winter uniform – the short catholic school skirts were strictly summer time. This time it was Kevin, Yaw, Kiran and myself. We decided to do foot massages. Once again, we were in a room with four loungers and I got the only male masseuse. I do not know what his name is, but he has a sweet face and very soft fingers. Yaw’s girl was one that had massaged Eric the first time I had been there.
Once again, I went through the motion of indicating to my “guy” about how my foot was broken. Of course, having Yaw there, I should just have asked him to explain in Mandarin instead, d-oh! Kiran and Yaw sat in the outer chairs, while Kevin and I were in the inner ones. Eyes closed, I could hear his girl slapping his feet and legs – a lot. She got dubbed ‘Slappy’. Evidently it was also very good for Kevin.. Didn’t know he had those kinds of ummm…. Inclinations. My guy worked on my right leg a lot. I had to show him which portion of my foot to avoid. Relaxed and rejuvenated – we headed back to the hotel.
But not before Yaw had a brain fart. Why not get a package deal? We could say which massages we’d be most likely to be having – i.e. foot, body and oil massages – and they give us a discount? The massage parlor agreed to it. 20% off all massages for any of us. They would also come to the hotel to give us the in-room treatment. This was good! We even got a card – a VIP card! We pooled our money in to pay upfront for a set number of massages.
We were all now officially massage whores.
By this time, the guys had figured out that each of the girls had a number. They also each had favorites. Luckily for them they all had different favorites, though it took them a while to figure that one out. It was funny to watch them quibbling over who would get number “x” on a certain day. It was not luck of the draw, mind you.. it was very much – I want so-and-so! Never mind the insistent lingering discussions on which masseuse gave what kind of massage! ** sigh** Their inner high school boy was coming out in droves! Sad!
I was the first to try the in-room. I wanted a body-massage. That Monday evening, Yaw set it up. “My” guy arrived at the hotel at 8 pm. We went up to my room. I had changed into jeans and a t-shirt. There was no massage table, so it had to be the bed. I lay on my stomach, and sighed in pleasure as his fingers dug into my head. This was contentment. One man taking care of my needs – oh! Not THOSE needs! – while I just lay back and let him do all the work! I had thought that the full body massage was always over the clothes. I was a bit alarmed when he gently unhooked my bra and then proceeded to knead my back. All the way down along my spine, his knuckles digging in and finding all the rough spots. Oh yeah. Then came the inevitable butt massage. (Okay – the guys were confused cause they never got the butt massage). He found these two spots inside my butt and pressed down hard on them. For a second the pain was intense, and then my body just melted. Another pressure point – between my torso and my legs. He applies the same technique. At first my body resists and then it relaxes. Aaahhh!!! I was flipped over it began all over again. One thing I realized, they massage you down a “meridian”. From the tip of the head to the base of the spine – back and front. From the base of the legs along the back to the heel. The pressure is applied evenly and firmly and released as soon you relax, leaving you wanting more.
Ninety minutes later – he was done. I felt delicious. He let himself out and I went straight to bed!
The next day, Eric, Yaw, Kevin and I headed back to the parlor. I wanted an oil massage. Kevin had been shy about having this massage for a while, and I’d been trying to convince him that he should try it. That day he finally broke down and agreed. Two oil massages for the both of us, two Thai massages for Yaw and Eric. We threw in head massages for Kevin and I as the oil massage was only 45 minutes, while the Thai massage was for 90 minutes. We were led down a corridor. Kevin was shown into the first room, me in the second, Eric in the third and Yaw in the room across from us. I was a bit comforted knowing that should anything untoward happen, I could scream and the guys would hear me. My guy showed up with a pair of translucent “shorts” that he indicated I should put on, and left. I stripped, put on the shorts and lay face down on the massage table. These rooms, I have to mention, have red decorated wall paper, incense burners, candles and shower stalls. He came back to the room, and the first thing he did was turn out the overhead light, and leave a dim little table lamp on. Thank god! I’d left my panties on under those shorts. Hell no, I don’t care if I got oil on them – I could always wash ‘em! He started with my head. That has got to be the best head massage of all. Did I mention that I fall asleep when anyone touches my hair? And 45 minutes of someone working every inch of your scalp. I did fall asleep I think. Then came the oil massage. Strangely, the smell of the oil reminded me of the hair oils you get in India – like Keo Karpin or Jabakussum! Floral, but not as strong. The oil massage was everything I had hoped it would be and more. It’s a lot less kneading and a lot more stroking – long, deep strokes. Forty-five minutes later, I was done. He indicated I should take a shower. I did – got dressed and ready to go. Of course, the ubiquitous notes were exchanged. How could we not? Evidently, Eric got twisted, curled, kneaded, flopped and all kinds of acrobatic things. Yaw did not get a Thai massage as his “girl” didn’t do it. He ended up with a body massage. Kevin got ‘Slappy’ and evidently she does not slap during an oil massage – which is good. Ever been slapped on oily skin? IT HURTS!!!
Our trip was coming to an end. We all had money in the kitty. But, so far, none of the guys had availed themselves of the option of an in-room massage. That last evening, Yaw decided he wanted to have an in-room massage, while Kevin and I decided we would go over for the foot massages. Yaw’s girl was the same one that Kevin wanted, and we were waiting for her to finish with Yaw, before we went over. We would be walking back to the parlor with her. As we waited in the hotel lobby, we saw Kiran and asked her if she would like to join us. She agreed. We saw the masseuse coming and we were ready to step out the door. At which point, Kiran decided that if she could get an in-room massage from the same girl, she would prefer that. Poor Kevin! He was chagrined! But he’s also a gentleman. He let Kiran have his girl. I consoled him all the way to the parlor… no – just kidding!
Kevin wanted the ‘paradise’ foot massage. Two masseuses simultaneously working on both feet, with aroma therapy and cupping thrown in. I pointed to the menu and made the arrangements. We were led to the room where we had our first massage (at least, I think it was the same room). We took the two end seats and the same routine began. Two girls who looked like twins for him, and my guy. Soak. Back rub. The two girls were tiny. I could hear them giggling incessantly. Turns out, Kevin’s toes were longer than their pinkies, their hands barely covered his palms and his shoes were as long as their forearms! Big American! Tee-hee-hee!! For a while I watched him getting worked over by the two girls. Then I closed my eyes and focused on my own relaxation. Soon I could hear deep breathing from the other side of the room, followed by a soft snore! Kevin was asleep! Oh my god. We all cracked up and he woke up. Guess what? He did it again. But it was worth it – I hope – for him.
I believe they – Yaw, Eric and Kevin went for one last massage. I didn’t join in. I had been feeling weirdly unwell for the last couple of days and decided to forgo the massages. I’d started having allergic reactions to something – I don’t quite know what, but I was pretty sure it was the Szechuan peppercorns that are ridiculously hot to taste and numb your taste buds.
In any case, I’d had two weeks of Beijing and I was ready to go home. For good, this time.
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