Last Thursday was the day a coupon for a local spa expired. Naturally, I (along with a whole gaggle of like-minded people) had to use the voucher on that day. So, even though I didn't have an identity card (accidentally on purpose) to verify my identity, they put me through the massage mill anyway.
The small size of the Malay masseuse isn't an accurate reflection of her ... abilities. While she made it just a tad less excruciating than my encounter with the China-born 推拿 demon, I reckon she didn't have the technique. By that, I mean the skills to inflict much pain without leaving evidence. In this instance, the bruises that linger for several days on my back, my calves, my thighs and even my butt-cheeks.
'Why didn't you ask her to go easy on you?' a friend asked. I wonder that too. Some days, I just lack courage.
She's apparently known by the spa staff for her "power". Curious that an established spa would retain a masseuse who inflicts bruises on customers. Some of these people must be into S&M. If they simply had to get her in to cope with the crush of the coupon's last day, it would defeat the purpose of an exercise to entice new customers to buy hundreds of dollars worth of spa visits.
Another odd thing about this charade - how marketing people succumb to the temptation of pointing out a prospective customer's flaws, in trying to convince them that their beauty treatments will do wonders for them.
'You can also try our facials, I see that you have some pimples.' I almost laughed out loud. She should've seen it a few months ago, when the zits were running riot across my forehead in permanent jubilee. What would she have said then?
