April 7, 2009

• My Chinese massage and why I fear Chinese women.

   

  We all break promises.  Bush in finding the weapons of mass destruction.  Obama with keeping lobbyists out of the White House.  Puff Daddy in not changing his name again.  Dr. Phil in never talking again.  (Well, Mr. Walrus really didn’t promise that, but one can only hope!)  And me?  I promised after my first full-body massage to never get another one.

   

  Well, we all know how those kinds of promises end up, huh?

   

  The Wife and I were in Las Vegas a couple weeks ago and being the cheap economically engaging couple we are, headed down Spring Mountain Road towards Chinatown to find her a massage that wouldn’t cost the equivalent of 10 Bellagio buffets.  During the drive I told her that I wouldn’t mind a chair massage (upper back only) but wanted to avoid the same fiasco with the last massage.  However, when we entered a seemingly reputable establishment she told them that we were going to get a couples massage.  What?!?!?!  It being Chinatown near Las Vegas, I figured she was afraid of one of two things if we were separated:

  1. Her being kidnapped and sent to an opium brothel in Toronto
  2. One of the ladies accidentally giving her husband a “full-release” massage (don’t ask, children, you don’t want to know) 

  But no matter what the reason I was now trapped.  Unless I ran screaming like a girl or feigned cardiac arrest I was going to get a full-body massage by an F.O.B. Chinese woman.  I have always feared F.O.B. Chinese women.  Growing up as the child of immigrants from Taiwan, I was in constant contact with F.O.B. Chinese women and found them to be brash, insensitive, lacking tact and out to get theirs, come hell or high water.  (And that’s just the ones with the dim sum carts!  Kidding.)  This always clashed with my mellow, laid back personality.  My first full-body massage was at a snooty place in Palo Alto that was very gentle, respectful and professional.  The masseuse introduced herself to me and every part of my body was covered by a sheet except for whatever part was being worked on.

   

  This place?  Let me just say that I appreciate that snooty Palo Alto place much more now.  Before we started I waited lying face down covered by a bath towel and my masseuse came in, ripped off the towel full monty style one time for your mind, leaving me more exposed than a hotel heiress named after a European city.  Since she didn’t introduce herself to me, I had no idea if she looked like Zhang Ziyi or gnarly Ephialtes from the movie “300,” so the entire time I wasn’t sure if she was using knuckles or warts to push on my pressure points.  There were no boundaries here, either.  The last lady would only massage the bottom of my poi bags.  This one?  There was nowhere she didn’t go.  I was violated more than U.N. sanctions in the middle east!

   

  The two women chatted with each other in Mandarin throughout the massage and at one point one of them left the room for five minutes leaving the door open.  I was like, “Helloooooooooooo!  My chocolate star is facing the sky right now!  Helloooooooooooo!”  At this very moment I’m sure my bungholio is someone’s facebook profile picture, having been uploaded from that person’s cell phone camera.  They shorted us 10 minutes and the best part was when the ladies demanded a $20 tip for each person, even blocking the door to prevent an elderly man from leaving until he’d tip them.

   

  That night during the massage I thought about how this would do nothing to change my view of F.O.B. Chinese women, but then I thought…should I get upset or should I try to understand why they are that way?  I once had a conversation with a guy who lived in Shanghai in the 1940s and 50s, and he told me that back then he had a lot of fun because the ratio of women to men was 40-to-1.  The ranks of men were tremendously thinned out due to the losses they sustained fighting Japan.  Can you imagine being a young woman or widow in post-World War II China?  You’d have to be brash and aggressive just to survive, let alone get a date on a Saturday night.  It’s no wonder that most of the Chinese women that I know are fiercely independent and proactive in their relationships.  My mom, for example, has always run our house, even when my dad was still alive.

   

  There are many people that come in and out of our lives and a good portion of them will have some character trait or behavior that we find deplorable or more irritating than a Carrot Top marathon.  However, instead of immediately casting them aside or getting defensive, perhaps we should take a step back and consider that there is a reason why they are that way and grant them a little grace. 

   

  When we meet we all come to the same place from different places.  None of us are perfect and I am sure that there are character traits that I have that drive other people crazy as well.

   

  So what did I do?  I considered the fact that they are immigrants trying to keep food on the table in a recession, so I gave them their requested $20 tip ($40 for both of us!) without a fight and walked out.  After all, it’s better than having them put my bungholio on facebook.  

  • 11:51 am
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