The flight here had left me with a bad neck and Jane’s sofa bed had added to the ailment with 2x bad shoulders.. so on Tuesday night we went to a massage centre.
The first one didnt offer massages to girls, so Jane hurriedly escorted me out of there. We eventually found a good one, and chose the type “Traditional Chinese massage” which didnt involve any tools or fire.
The place was four stories high, far different to the massage places in the UK, and was decorated in what I can only describe as Caeser’s Rome crossed with the neon colour of Tokyo.. with some fake amazonian jungle thrown in for good effect.
I was asked by the masseuse what level of massage I would like, soft or hard.. medium was unavailable for some reason. I chose hard in the hope it would be more effective and to make sure she was working hard for my money.
As soon as she started I realized my huge mistake, she pushed, pulled and crushed me for an hour leaving me looking like a wet leaf by the end of it. I was meant to go back to have another session but I’m only just getting over the pain from the first massage now. Maybe the massages involving fire will be less painful.