I'll put up with the kimchi

On Sunday I learned about a fabulous massage deal in the area. An hour long foot massage for $25.  I love foot massages.  Actually, it was foot reflexology, which sounds a little more technical.  Oh what the hey, I enjoy anything being massaged even if you make it sound more technical.  So the appointment got scheduled for that afternoon, and I mapped it.  It was in the middle of an international shopping complex. 

I was going into this with some presumptions.  I know, I shouldn’t have.  But my only experience with foot massages were at pedicure places.

Presumption #1: It was going to be a brightly lit place where you’re going to sit in a chair and read a magazine during the foot massage. So I brought a book.  I always think messing around with my phone in those places is rude, so a book actually allows me to get some reading in.

Presumption #2: It was going to be done by a very small Asian girl.  Because that’s who gives pedicures, at least in Seattle.    

Presumption #3: There would be a few other women customers there. 

Presumption #4: There wouldn’t be much awkwardness, other than the normal amount of awkwardness when someone is paid to rub your feet.

I find the place with little trouble, and it has a neon “Open” sign in the window. There are no windows, so thank goodness there’s that open sign.  When I open the door, the place is almost completely dark.  I’m ready to step back out when a guy calls me in. 

It is really dark.  There’s a little nightlight in one corner, and there’s football on the big screen TV.  But other than that, there’s no light.  Football?  What spa/beauty place has football on?  There’s a guy at the front desk.  I say I have a 3:00 appointment.  He points to my shoes and then points to a chair.  I take off my shoes and sit in the waiting area, which is a couch.  I get out my book, but there’s not enough light to read.  My eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness, and I see a guy massaging another guy.  The guy being massaged is making weird noises.  You know those ventilators in hospitals?  You could totally hear him breathe like a ventilator.  It was creepy.  And he was horizontal.  I thought they did foot massages?  And where are the women?  There was a man at the desk, there’s a man giving that guy a massage, and there’s a man getting a massage.  I was not expecting this type of gender ratio. 

Then a man comes out from the back and tells me to sit in a towel-laden chair.  Okay.  I sit down in the new chair, sans book, since the lighting situation is so poor.  Then he comes back with a bucket of hot water that he carries from the back.  I put my feet in.  Then he looks at jeans.  “Take pants off.” 

HUH?  Are you flipping crazy?  I’m NOT taking my pants off in front of 3 male employees and a male customer.  It’s a FOOT massage.  I didn’t sign up for a leg massage.  I didn’t want to piss off any of them because I know they didn’t speak English well.  I was looking at the traditional writing on the posters that were hung, and I was trying to figure out what language it was.  The written characters didn’t quite look Japanese, probably not Chinese, so I was thinking that it was most likely Korean.  Korean characters tend to have a different look to them than Chinese or Japanese.  Not that I can read any of those languages, but since I live in a place where there is a higher than normal concentration of Asian cultures, I’ve learned a bit. 

I rolled my jeans to my knees, which seemed to make the masseur happy enough.  And I was much cooler about that than about my pants coming off.  Not that I’m a complete prude, but jeez, NOT taking my pants off.  Although I have been requested to do more outrageous stuff in the past, but that will be tomorrow’s blog post.    

So he tells me to lie back, and his hands are rubbing my face.  Again, I thought this was a foot massage.  His hands smell bad.  Like the Hwang house when we first moved in.  Kimchi?  Ugh, kimchi, I freaking hate the smell of kimchi.  If I moved to Korea, I swear I’d lose 30 pounds if I had to eat traditional Korean food. 

Aside from the smell of his breath (kimchi), his hands (kimchi), the towels (kimchi), it was the most amazing hour.  I don’t know why it wasn’t advertised as a full body massage.  He didn’t massage my back, but he massaged everything else that can be legally massaged lol. Scalp, neck, upper chest (took off my necklace), arms, fingers (took my wedding ring off…I was starting to get suspicious of thievery at that point), lower legs, upper legs, feet, ankles.  And then throw in some physical therapy because of the way he was contorting and stretching my legs and arms.  It was the quickest hour ever.  I didn’t go to sleep though (I was worried about my jewelry and of course Ventilator Man was hard to ignore a few chairs away from me). And all that for $25 + generous tip?  Wow, what a deal.  Can I go every day?  I’ll even put up with the kimchi smell and smelling like kimchi when I leave.  It was THAT good.  Even 6 hours later I’m feeling gooooooood.  Kimchi Man can massage me anytime.  And so can my husband of course.  :-)