A few months ago, I bought a massage voucher from Scoopon – a site that sells cheap goods/services in exchange for peace of mind and a loss of dignity upon redemption. You have to be savvy – sellers do their own valuations, so they can put $450 RRP on a bar of soap, or give their soup kitchen 3 Michelin stars.
I got a sweet deal last time though, it was a one hour massage for $29 with a reputable massage place in Kalamunda and considering standard price now is around $100 p/hr, you’d think I’d be laughing, right?
Wrong. I was crying, because my ex-Guantanamo masseuse unleashed a can of whoopass that’s had me walking funny for a week. My issue is that I can’t find a massage that’s harder than Swedish and softer than remedial. Remedial’s like a modern day equivalent of the rack or some other form of medieval torture, and Swedish is just someone running a piece of lettuce up and down your back and occasionally patting you to let you know they haven’t left the room. At the end, they tell you they’ve got rid of a heap of toxins which makes what they’ve done sound vaguely medical and justifies the exorbitant fees.
Since I was all Swedished out and had possibly forgotten what pain felt like, I went remedial and said – only half joking – to the lady that I could take anything. She said ‘we’ll see about that’ which really annoyed me because it was a condescending threat, and they’re the worst kind.
I went fine on the legs – it was painful, but I could take it. Then she did some form of chinese burn on my back where she shifted skin around in opposite directions, and dug her fingers in where she’d just been. She said ‘and how’s that love’ – and I said ‘it’s great, but I thought you’d said it was going to be hard.’ No I didn’t – that would have been tantamount to suicide. At one point I thought, this woman’s going to kill me because one of her moves was just to kind of lean on me until I couldn’t breathe.
Long story short, I did break down and she rewarded me with some gentle strokes, and massaged my flanks like I was Phar Lap and I’d just done a very long, very painful, race. I thought she was going to put some oats out for me underneath the head hole and braid my hair.
At least my skin had a festive red glow! Merry Christmas one and all! xx