This is Part Two from the Part One to finish the Collection of Two Posts I Promised.
Yadda yadda yadda read.
After my Mum picked us up from the hotel, she had a sudden urge to pamper herself all day which she doesn't have often. We were lucky enough that she wanted to spend some time with my sister and I too.
We went to a mall and got ourselves some soft ice-cream (the shop was closing down, sadly, and I was three more stamps short for a free ice-cream) and bought some books to read during the PMR holidays. And somehow, I don't know how and why I didn't resist (was it the ice-cream?), but we ended up, weirdly,
getting a foot massage.
We entered this small shop that struck to me on how could anyone have a massage in here? It had the garden wood floors, the pebbles between the cracks, soft low lighting and the trickle of water from...somewhere. I happily thought my Mum alone was getting this foot massage and try to concentrate on The Intrepertation Of Murder by Jed Rubenfeld (my taste of books. Huh.) Apparently, my Mum confirmed a full set of foot massage for the three of us. The lady who took care of the counter said we needed to go to another place to get them, which I thought of course, they can't massage in here. Then what's with the bed and the Zen-like garden? Decorations? Oh, wait.
The other massuesse place was outside the main mall enclosure on another winged shop at the highest floor. So we went where the lady pointed as she rush back to the reception shop where it is currently on auto-pilot. We passed by a bridal shop and gawked at the froo-froo of a red dress on display. As we climbed the stairs to the top of floor, I started to wish that this was not one of those seedy massage places I saw that would always get raided by police that offers more than a massage, if you get my drift.
After I excitedly ring the bell to the door, we went in and I was completely piqued by the smell of aromatherapy, (which I'm guessing is the smell). The main shop looked similar like the reception shop. It was wood-themed, had a low lighting, a Buddha statue and the sound of the trickle of water which I cannot seem to place but I failed to spot a speaker anywhere.
We waited for awhile on the chairs at the front of the door. I watched my sister following her massuese to a chair on a pedestal with a bowl at the front of it (a picture would explain this better but I don't think they approve of photography) and rolled up her jeans so that her feet could be washed from the dirt and bacteria. Another lady came and plopped a towel on the coffee desk. She looked up and said, "Hai." I muttered a "Hey."
She was actually my massuese and I had to go to the same rinsing treament my sister had. The water was warm to the more hot side but after walking a few miles in five hours non-stop, it felt really good. This made me sad that there was no hot water for my bathroom. You are designated a slipper and I head off to one of the four out of the six available chairs (two were taken by a four-year-old kid and an older woman which I could only presume to be her mother) and sat beside my sister where her massage was already undergoing. I sat awkwardly, not knowing either to make myself comfortable or do not try anything so you won't break anything. My massuese helped me to prop myself up and I just gave in to be stupid.
She started to use a cream to massage my feet and did some small talk.
Intercepts of Small Talk :
"YOU TWO AREN'T TWINS?" she said in disbelief, "but you look so alike!"
That was the second time we heard it that today. My sister and I still can't see it.
or
"So you never had a massage before? So you're like massage virgins?" and she started to snigger with my sister's massuese. I just laughed it off, not seeing the big deal but when you see from their point of view it could be humourous to massage a first-timer, like they have so many things to still learn about the "world of massage."
Right, so if you asked me if I liked my massage, my answer : Yes and No.
Why I Said Yes
Most of the parts of massage was really nice. To sound like a massage virgin, I never let a stranger touched my feet like that before. And the scent with the sound of trickling water and the background forest music lulled myself to almost-slumber.
Why I Said No
Some of the parts were really painful. I'm not one to complain on pain but I am still going to complain. One of the excruciating one was when they rub between your big toe and your second toe. Even the masseuse expresses a "Yeah, I know. It hurts." look to me. I try to bear it but I wanted to bit something. And the next part, whoa, it got me raising an eyebrow.
I have only seen the hot stone massage performed on TV and how people look so relaxed when they have it one them.
Lies.
After a short intermission, my masseuse came back with a basket of smooth, black stones. I always wondered how these feels like. Then, I don't want to wonder no more.
When my massuese was happy with a stone that was not slightly hot, she rubbed it on my leg and I instantly jolted upwards involuntarily. What are these stones??? They are like Blazing Stones From Hell. I repeat: BLAZING STONES FROM HELL.
Okay, fine, they were actually from the Philipines but the heat might as well be FROM HELL.
Not that I was that sensitive to heat but when the stone grazed my leg too long and I was too nice to say, "OH MY GOSH THIS IS TOO FREAKING HOT! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!", it feels like these evil stones (yes, I used evil because I might as well be flat-out honest to you) were melting my into skin and burying through my white, hot flesh. Most of the time I just gritted my teeth together because I don't want to call the hot stone massage off because I'm too much of a cheap to waste my mother's money like that. I think I left my nail marks on the leather seat. I really hope they don't notice that.
I asked Sister and Mother on their opinion and they said that the hot stone massage was very nice.
Have they grown accustomed to heat of hell?
So you see, I came back home at 7 pm because after the massage we went to pick an appliance (which I'm not quite sure what it is, that is why I'm dubbing it an appliance), went to the supermarket to buy some coffee and roam a CD store and then we had to wait in the rush hour. Tired out off my mind, I went back home and needed to get ready for school and the examination tomorrow. After that, I wrote that Rant Post about how tired out off my mind I was which you have the misfortune to read but I'm making it up by writing TWO posts about how I got to Rant Post so you should really be happy by now and I'm starting to get beat after writing two posts in a row and we would not want it to end like Rant Post.
I hate stones from volcanoes.
