My massage adventures in Tokyo
As I am typing this, my back and my right arm are terribly sore and stiff. It has been a rough few days navigating life with an increasingly painful backache. The kangaroo has been giving me massages with heat rub after hot showers and half-hour stretches. But those just gave temporary relief, and I would spend the night tossing and turning in a creaky, excruciating manner.
I actually felt quite sore after a tennis session three weekends ago, but I think with constant mousing at my Mac and possibly a very flat futon (the kangaroo has no problems with his back, so maybe not), my back just got worse. It was after a couple of jogging sessions that the pain became serious, so a massage was in order.
After our wonderful steak dinner, we tried a Thai massage parlour at the bottom of the hill to our apartment. It seemed very clean and had warnings on their catalogue that they didn’t provide sexual services. The cozy shop had subtle incense burning and tinkly music in the background. Shiny purple and yellow Thai cushions littered their waiting room.
I was looking forward to a tough kneading massage that the Thais are so famous for so I was surprised at what was in store for me. The girl who was tasked to do my massage instructed me to take off all my clothes and wrap a towel around me. I asked doubtfully, “Everything?” She nodded, “Yes, everything.” Right. Usually, they would let you leave your knickers on but I thought well, whatever, maybe it’s got to do with their style of massage, like they might want to massage the top of the buttocks area, which is fairly common practice. Let me tell you that she didn’t touch my buttocks at all.
The kangaroo and I signed up for a full body massage but I feel like demanding my JPY9,000 back because the silly chit of a girl (who had bleached yellow locks) basically massaged my legs — every inch of them. Who the hell heard of focusing on your legs in a full body massage?
Even the Chinese massage joint that we frequent up near our old place would give your back a proper massage when you order a full body course. But they are weird, too, as they slide their arms under your back while you are lying face up. What kind of shit is that? As you can tell, I’m an angry, grouchy woman who is feeling uncomfortable at her desk and mousing with her left hand.
Back to the Thai massage: so this session was kind of going nowhere and I should’ve asked her to focus on my back but I was tipsy from two glasses of wine and must’ve nodded off because before I knew it, the hour-long session was over.
The other thing I felt pissed off with was her bedside manner. She was rough in the sense that she flipped open my towel with as much finesse as a brown bear with big paws. Basically when she switched from leg to leg during her massage, she would flip open the side of the towel of the leg she was working on (you can imagine how exposed I was, right?). I tried to inch the towel back to recover as much modesty as I could while lying down, but she would do exactly the same thing when she moved over to the other leg. ARRRGGGHHHHHHH!
And she had long nails, which scratched and poked me — that made me fume. I was relieved when it was over and whined to the kangaroo after we left the shop.
“Okay, we won’t go back there again,” he mused. His back apparently got a lot more attention What a bunch of unprofessional nitwits! He was like, “It’s okay, she was female, right?”
Yes, but I’m still fairly self-conscious of being exposed to strangers, even if they are women. I mean, it took me a few times to traipse around naked and confident in an onsen but I have never experienced such man-handling in a spa! Plus, I think Singaporean women are generally not as blasé as other women about nudity.
Anyway, the kangaroo recommended another Chinese massage place in Shinjuku san-chome that had the previous staff of the one he frequents in our neighbourhood. He assured me they gave proper massages and would give my back a good pummel.
Now I do feel much looser and they were very professional — they lathered pungent medicated oil on my back, covered it up in hot towels, kneaded all the right sore places and sent me home with the name of a good medicated oil to buy from the pharmacy.
I must be the only person on this planet to say this: I don’t like massages. I like the relaxed feeling after the session but I just hate the pain. It feels like going to the dentist. Also, I really hated it when they swathed the oil all over my back and kneaded me under the arms with vigour. I felt like giggling but I felt so grossed out at the same time. I felt like telling her to leave my armpits alone but I don’t know what the words are in Mandarin.
But in all, it was a good session and they addressed the problem. They instructed me, like concerned mothers who cluck and coo, to not crouch over a computer, to apply the medicated oil after my shower, and to not use my right arm as much as possible over the next few days.
Looks like it could be MacDonalds’ for dinner…
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