I have come back from my trip with memories to last a little while, some photos that my travel companions took and a sore liver. I didn’t take a camera myself because I keep losing them on nights out (2 in the last 4 months) and I will try to describe the holiday, to my future self and anybody that happens upon this post, in words.
Of course there is a lot of things to write about but the most significant moments happened, or I was reminded of them, on a masseuses table.
I had never had a massage before from a qualified professional as I found them to be too awkward and a bit too close to prostitution in the way that you are paying someone to touch you that wouldn’t do it for free. (More on this later)
I gave in on this trip though because my friend was getting one as well and with all moralistic judgements, its not as bad if someone else is doing it too.
Massages are not relaxing; I found this out pretty much as soon as I entered the parlour (its also noteworthy that ‘parlour’ has become synonymous with ‘brothel’) when we were told to take our shoes off and wait and we realised that we were probably going to be getting a couples massage – in the same room. This is awkward squared.
I will run down the massage in key stages.
It seems the first stage is – White Guilt.
The first thing that happened is that we were lead into a room that had been decked out to look like an Arabian cave (flowing colourful curtains, xylophone music) and told to sit down. Two young Malaysian ladies walked in with wooden bowls of water and put our feet in them.
Now it felt weird enough sat there with our feet in a little bath but it got a whole lot worse when they started washing our feet in them. I don’t know if it is just me that feels this way, but when I am visiting a new country where the locals are less well off than I am, I feel a slight bit guilty when they are washing sand off my feet, on their knees, while I am towering above them in what closely resembles a throne.
This was one of the reasons I do not get massages in England (or Abu Dhabi). When you look through the window (and I’m talking pedicures here because that is the closest thing to having your feet washed I suppose) you see western women sat up in recliner seats; reading their books and gossiping about their colleagues and neighbours. At their feet are an army of (usually) eastern (usually) women literally on their hands and knees, elbow deep in smelly foot water.
This was the feeling at the start of my massage – It was about to get worse…
Other notes on white guilt
1. Arguing with a povety ridden tuk-tuk driver over 50 baht (A quid)
2. Getting fustrated with young people asking me for money to help them buy books for school. (It may be a con, I know, but hell, it was a dollar, and they were kids)
3. Having doors help open for me when I went to the intercontinental hotel for Christmas Eve by what was probably a veterent of the terrible, Pol Pot war. (Everybody that is over 40 and Cambodian will remember this time and will have been on one of the two sides)
This leads me to stage two… Humiliation
After the regal footbath we were lead into a room and told to get ready. Already my heart started pounding, as I hate to get changed even in a men only locker room. I have no idea why because I will skinny dip or even streak at the drop of a hat, just something about changing rooms. Anyway, getting changed in front of a girl I am not going to have sex with is a nightmare for me.
It got much worse though when we were handed a little see-through sealed bag and told in broken English ‘change – wear this’
I opened the packet to find a little pair of panties that can only be described as a cross between see-through lingerie and granny pants. Once again I was mortified and politely asked my friend to turn around. She did, albeit reluctantly – the pervert!
I hurried to the table with a hole in the top (for your face apparently) and lay down with a hand towel hurriedly covering my modesty.
Stage 3 – Tension
As I gazed through my face sized peep hole all I could see were some manicured, flip-flop sheathed toes pacing around. I then heard a squeeze of oil and then slimy hands on my back.
The first part of the massage was ok, it was kinda nice actually once I had gotten over the guilt and humiliation. But as this was a tandem massage I heard what was happening to my buddy on the next table, and it didn’t sound pretty.
It was a noise of someone being beat up, repetitive slaps and thuds and I couldn’t lift my head to see what was happening, my whole body tensed up as I knew I was next.
Luckily, it just sounded bad and was actually an OK feeling.
Stage 4 – Penis Problems
That is plural yes. Twice my penis played up during the course of this hour long tandem couple massage. Really the first problem should have prevented the second out of sheer embarrassment but we all know what cocks are like. Unpredictable!
I had rolled onto my back to get the second part of my massage (Thankfully, they held up a towel so I could roll over without my friend seeing my frilly panties. Another thing they did, which I thought was merciful was that they put a small towel over my eyes so it avoided eye contact between the masseuse and myself.)
And was relaxing when I felt a, very gentle, hand touch my penis and then tuck it back inside the panties. I was mortified. Now I realise that this sounds like I am bragging about my manhood but I will tell you now that I am more of a grower than a shower and it is actually the panties’ fault for being tiny and baggy at the same time.
Honestly I have never been so embarrassed in my life, all I could do was muffle a ‘sorry’ and try to forget about it.
I wish this were the worse that happened.
Towards the end of the massage, I felt the unmistakable feeling of becoming aroused. I fought it, but the more I fought it the worst it became. It was like at a school assembly when the announcements are made at the end and you get a boner just as we, the students, had to stand up and leave. (I was so happy for my backpack in them moments) Or when, at the end of a car journey, and you know you have to get out soon and a hard on just sneaks up on you and once again, you either have to play for time of put you hands in your pockets to hide it as much as you can.
This was like that but with absolutely nowhere to hide, and to be brutally honest, which I always try to be, it turned me on a little that there was nothing I could do and was trying to stop it. It became a catch 22 upward spiral of biology and circumstance.
I felt like saying ‘well, what are you going to do about that then?’ but I didn’t, I just felt the stares that must have being going in my boner's direction and heard a little giggle from my friend’s masseuse (remember there were 4 people in the room) that I hope was about the circumstance and not the size.
As I left the room they were all having a little joke in Malaysian and looking at me. I was so embarrassed.
All in all though I enjoyed my first massage experience.
The rest of the trip was incredible and I had a great time but I am not very good about writing about happiness so I will bullet point some highlights.
• We went on a boat trip and had the whole boat to ourselves because no one else booked on it that day. Even though there were only three of us, they ran out of beer and had to borrow tsome from another boat – It usually holds 30 people.
• We sung Gangnam style and other various karaoke tunes at the top of our voices in a free, private booth – shortly to be joined by about 6 Malaysians who wanted to sing Psy’s song with us.
• We did handstands on the beach
• I will say as little about Cambodia as possible
• We saw a ping-pong show that was truly eye-opening.
• I didn’t see any naked ladyboys but it was fun trying to spot them on the street.
• Didn’t get a happy ending massage (although, morally, I cant see it in much of a different light to having a massage, its still somebody touching you to make you feel good for money, just on that forbidden (why?) 1 percent.
• Went to a make-shift full moon party as the boast were cancelled (this after a 19hour boat and bus trip across Thailand)
• Rode a cable car and got very scared as it had minor turbulence.
• Saw a couple of temples
• Drunk beer and ate amazing food on the beach
• Met some wonderful Australians ☺
• Stood on a crab and it drew blood
And most importantly…
I avoided coming into contact with any huge bugs – although I did see a massive lizard!
Oh, and I won my boxing match! I may reflect on that at a later date but better for you to watch the video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ki25ZfU5gI
No comments:
Post a Comment