“Can I please have the “Back, Shoulders and Neck” massage?
Now, in the US, at a similar establishment, I would be led to a chair, one where you sit facing forwards, head down, back slabbed-out towards its intended opponent.
Here, I was led to a bed.
Then, a man stood on me, then sat on me, then curled me up as though your back is supposed to curl into a semiscircle – as though he were attempting to turn my previously semi-straight back into a croissant – and not a good one, one that you’d find at Dunkin Donuts.
Getting a Thai massage is like getting a lesson in being a contortionist, and instead of getting a “congrats, you are semi-flexible” sticker when you leave, you just get some filtered water to rehydrated your kneaded out, but entirely inflexible body.
Other moves included the “squish your shoulder blades down until your head is buried in a pillow and you can’t breath.” Thoughts at this point included: “Did I put on enough deoderant to not be super embarrassing when the coroner comes to inspect my body and deems it too unfit to have gone through such rigorous exercise?”
In the end, I don’t know if my back is stretched out, so much as it needs to stretch itself over to a chiropractor.
Thai Massages: for people that want to relax on the cheap, but can’t really afford a bottle of wine (here) and then end up getting the wine anyway, to try and loosen everything back up.
Beyond the Office 