Know your Therapist

I had an interesting massage last night.  I had left my hotel to go to dinner.  I had to walk about 1/4 mile to get to the restaurant that I had found on Yelp.   It was Thai food and it was good.   When I was done with dinner and was headed back to my hotel, I passed by a Hand Rolled Cigar place where I had purchased cigars in the past.   I considered going in, but decided against it.   It always leaves me a little hoarse the next day and I knew I would need to speak today.   I also passed a massage place.   It was called "Eastern Spa" and there was an Asian girl standing outside smoking.    

“Hmmmm”, I thought?   “This looks like a house of ill repute.”

Oh well, my calves have been aching since this weekend and I’ve been dying to get a massage.   I mean, com’on,  it’s a strip mall in Oldsmar; how could it be one of THOSE places?

The sign said that they were open until 11:00 and that “walk-ins were welcome”.   I ventured inside.   There were two Asian ladies in view.   One was older and sitting in a chair.  The other was younger, wearing sweatpants and a tee shirt.  She was sitting at a reception counter.   I walked over to the younger one.

“Do you have space for walk in”, I asked?

“How long you want?”

“Uhhhhhh,  30 minutes, I guess.”

“No problem.  Forty five dollar.”

“Okay”, I said. I handed her my American Express card.

“No ‘merican express, okay?”

“Oh sorry”, I told her.  I pulled out my Visa.

“Okay”, she smiled. “No problem”

“Right now”,  I asked?

“Yes, yes now!”

She walked me back to a massage room.   It looked normal enough.  There was a massage table.   She showed me in and then promptly left.   There was no explanation.  No instruction.   “This doesn’t matter”, I thought.   “I’ve had plenty of massages.”   I will just undress and lay down on the table.  Well, it wasn’t that simple.   There was no cover sheet like you normally find.   It was just a single sheet.   There were some small towels.   I think that maybe I was supposed to lay on top and cover my bare ass with a hand towel.   I opted to just keep my underwear on.   I undressed down to my skivvies and lay down on the table.   I put my face in the circle at the end of the massage table.   It was covered with a Bounty paper towel that had a hole cut in the middle.  “This is a quality place”, I thought. 

The same girl from the reception counter came in and approached the table.

“I really just want you to focus on my legs, my lower legs”, I told her.

“What, no back?”

“You can do my back some, but I really want you to focus on my legs.”

“I have to relax whole body!”

“Okay.”
                She started in the massage.   It kind of sucked.   The pressure was weak.   The technique was amateur.  She rubbed my back and then my legs.  She didn’t dig into the problem calves, but she did briefly rub them.  

My best guess is that they place was opened by the owner of the manicure and pedicure place that was next door.   They must have decided that it was a logical extension to their business.   In the end it was just a poor use of $50.   My calves still hurt.   I guess it pays to know your massage therapist and doing a walk in somewhere at 9:30pm is not the way to get a quality massage.  Live and learn.