“You need to check if the website says ‘table-shower’.”
After we had smoked a blunt, my friend advised me to take a message and have happy endings.
My friend’s wisdom shows that I have never been to a massage parlour offering a full-service package.
I have only had one massage in my entire lifetime.
We were two stoned, single men kicking it on Saturday night. You can’t go wrong with trying something new. A good massage or a hand job seemed to have very few downsides.
We decided to venture to Manhattan to check out a massage parlour in midtown Manhattan. My friend had been there before and could confirm its quality.
Fantastic. The last thing I needed to do was get held up or get something in my way while trying to relax.
We ventured out, and I was a little nervous about it all.
First, my mind races when I get high. This is part of why I don’t smoke anymore. Second, it drove at 10,000 miles per minute as we approached our destination.
You think you are a total scumbag for going into a massage parlour to get tangled up. This is ridiculous. Next, I will be wearing long coats, pocket watches, or some other sh*t.
You soon forget about the opinions of others and begin to wonder what will happen if your work is not done quickly enough.
You do. I don’t understand why. Although it’s not like the masseuse is my girlfriend, I feel inferior to men who orgasm too fast, regardless of who they are with.
But I digress.
My friend may have sensed my anxiety, but he encouraged me to relax. It happened several times.
After hitting the ATM to get cash, I was almost tempted to cross the street towards the massage parlour.
It’s too late.
The spa was quiet for Saturday nights, so we entered it. It’s not like you could look up Yelp to see what times are most famous for a quickie. I assumed that a weekend night would bring in more clients.
The front desk greeted us and we were shown to the locker area to change into our robes and put our belongings away. We left our underwear on underneath.
It wasn’t like the scene in Rush Hour 2 where Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker go to “Heaven on Earth” and pick from a line of 30 women.
To my knowledge, there were no Triad gang members present.
Each of us was taken to a different massage room. I lay on the table, waiting for my masseuse to work my back. My masseuse was unable to speak English because I was high on stone.
There was not much conversation.
As I received a reasonably mundane massage, soothing music played in the background. Sometimes, I couldn’t feel her fingers and hands on my skin.
My mind began to drift towards the “ending” as time passed. My friend hadn’t instructed me on how it was supposed to happen, so I hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward and she would make a smooth transition.
I was wrong.
After the massage, my masseuse attempted to get me into another room for a shower. I started repeating “table shower” every time. Seriously.
Even though I was nervous about the whole experience, I knew I couldn’t leave with a routine massage.
She looked at me as if I had three heads, but I knew she understood what I was trying to say.
She repeated the phrase “table shower”, and I was back at the spa’s front desk to pay another fee. Although I don’t recall the exact amount, it was likely between $30 and $50.
Talk about killing the spirit.
Soon enough, I was back at the table, facing up, ready for the long-awaited table shower.
My masseuse took my underwear off, and she began to work on it. She lifted me with her other hand and placed it on my breast.
She kept repeating, “You’re becoming very sleepy,” which was odd but unsurprising—two and a quarter hours had passed since we last smoked pot.
It was over in a matter of minutes.
Before I knew it I was being rushed to a sauna and shower area where I met my friend. Although it was strange that we were both there at the exact moment, I suppose that’s how things work sometimes.
The sauna was only for a few minutes. The sauna was silent, so I felt a bit cheap.
Am I content? I wasn’t. I was tired. I was cold. I was ready to go to bed.
If you still want to fulfil a fantasy of getting a massage or a hand job, all you need is to find a spa that offers “table baths.”
Some advice: Get feedback from your friends and family so you don’t waste your time and money on sub-par performances.