Let me preface this blog by saying that I'm not picky about massages- or at least wasn't picky until Sri Lanka. Let me set the mood: we had ordered massages to our hotel room. 3 girls- 2 masseuses. The guy who was to be giving my massage walked into the room wearing a matching sweatsuit, and informed me to undress while proceeding to (1) stay in the room, and (2) gesture to me to undress in front of him. This should have been the 1st sign that things were slightly askew. After asking him to politely step out while I undressed I draped myself in a towel and came out to find him setting up shop next to a stool- that's right a massage on a stool. He asked me to sit on a stool facing a mirror "so I could watch." Watch what? You're probably asking yourself, as I was in this moment- well just wait for it!! He told me we would start with a head massage, and poured some type of peppery smelling liquid on the crown of my head. I immediately thought "was this used in last nights dinner??" Instead of massaging this into my head he began to rub it into my hair, and then my hair against my scalp. I quickly started to resemble an 80's rocker. I had to close my eyes to keep from laughing at the disaster that was unfolding in the mirror in front of me. I suddenly had volume I hadn't realized was possible, nor really should be possible. I cringed to think of what a horror it would be to comb this mess out.
Next came the drawing on the back portion of the massage. He noted that I have a butterfly tattoo, and began to lightly draw on my back while informing me that this was called the "butterfly touch." For this I did actually laugh out loud. Part of me wondered if my friends had put him up to this. I felt like I was back in Grade school and someone was drawing on my back and I was supposed to guess what the design was.
Next we moved the show to the bed. I mostly kept wondering when the "massage" was going to start. The next 30 minutes were spent either tickling me, scratching me, or karate chopping my ass. I honestly thought I was getting punked Sri Lankan style. Then came the icing on the cake- he pinched my love handles and said in a deep voice "too much fat." I was like "no shit Sri Lankan- you ain't tellin me anything new." He proceeded to demonstrate standing ab crunches telling me "body #1, body good." He then informed me that he was Mr Kandy 2001. Finally is was over. My hair looked borderline amazing. My friends almost peed themselves when they saw me. I decided to walk around the Mansion with my hair like this. The woman at the front desk asked how we liked our massages- I just pointed at my hair.
Random thoughts during massage:
-Is this dude for real.
-Am I really paying for this.
-"Dead puppies" to keep from laughing.
-I wish I had this shit show on video.
-They have a Mr Kandy competition???
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