Today, I was massaged by a linebacker with fingers the size of Bratwurst and thumbs twice the width. The massage started out kinda funny with me being completely disrobed, except for my ponytail holder, laying there vulnerably on my stomach. I relaxed there for a while before the masseur came in and the very moment the bamboo door closed I heard that distinctive bzzz sound of a drill. I looked up, thinking what the heck, and then I heard the sound again. As it turned out, the staff were hanging a couple pieces of art on the other side of the bamboo wall.
As for the massage, he adjusted my back and neck first, then lubed me up with cacao oil and then went to town. Lest one would think I smelled like a "Snicker's Bar" on a massage table, allow me to set the record straight and clarify that the oil was odorless. He dug into my muscles with his fingers or elbows until the tips of my fingers and toes tingled. I ordered a deep tissue treatment and for the first time in my life got the massage I ordered. The masseur periodically checked on me to see if I was OK, and I kept grunting, "Si, si, mas." I was barely lucid by the time the hour passed me by. Yes, for those wondering, I will be going back, and at $28 for the second best hourly activity money can buy, why not?
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| The hotel where massage dreams come true. |
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| The cacao museum and curios. |
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