Butterfly Gets Battered

‘A body scrub, steam bath and a massage’, tantalizing treat to pamper yourself after a hard day's work? NO. I’ve three words to sum it.

WORST. MASSAGE. EVER.

I’ve been through a 4 hour straight session of tattooing and yet this was a new measure on the displeasure spectrum. There was hardly a moment I felt relaxed or comfortable, except for that one time she stopped to presumably scratch her arm.

The Body Scrub.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I'm pretty sure the scrub isn’t supposed to be applied in rigorous lateral movements. The brusque introduction to salt scrubbing, the thermal heated bed and I realized I was being marinated. Throw some BBQ sauce on me and you'll have yourself a Tuesday evening potluck.

The Massage.

She probably worked at Bread Talk before. I don’t know if she was kneading dough or inflicting me with potential internal injuries. She could well have flipped me, cracked an egg and served me with fish curry.

Never had I felt the need to tense up every time someone ran their fist down my neck then now. There is a difference between a deep massage and downright battery. In an hour, she managed to land every Chuck Norris inspired blow to my back.

Knees, elbows, fist. All that she needed was to throw in a headbutt to complete her impressive combo.

My larynx was crushed when she pressed me face down against the bed and I spent the next 5 secs alternating between salivating and catching my breath. She quickly followed this up with two scapula breaking punches before tearing through my back with what felt like brass knuckles.

The finishing maneuver involved her KNEELING on my lower back while delivering Buddhist Palm worthy blows. There goes the kidney..

The Head Massage.

17yr old meth induced hair-salon Ah Lians would have done a better job. There wasn’t a single moment I’d wish for a balaclava more than now. She was rubbing my hair so furiously that I must have had enough static in me to pick up loose shreds of paper on the floor.

Pain is obviously the one marketing gimmick this spa encourages its masseuses to enforce. Never have I come out of a massage session feeling worse than I went in.

She: “How was it?”
Me: “Good… good.”
She: “If need more strength you can tell me.”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! How strong is this woman? She could have massaged a Porsche into a Proton if she needed to. Yes I lied, but no one tells a woman who just spent 1 hour destroying your vital organs that her massage sucks without getting their ass kicked. Honesty is not appreciated at spas.

12 hours later, I wake up feeling like I got hit by a bus.