Thursday, October 21, 2010
#1 Massage Boy
(I realize I never shared this story from my Asia trip in February and March...and that's just wrong)
A few hours after the Hong Kong Marathon I settled into a Thai Airways plane and headed to Bangkok. I got to my hotel around 10pm, and normally this would be followed by a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a dipping of the toes into the local nightlife. This time, however, I was exhausted and needed to head to bed, and not just because of the marathon...I was also starting massage class Monday morning.
I was in Bangkok to take a Thai massage class at the Wat Po School, which is a pretty famous massage school. I first got the idea back in 2005 when Adrian and I visited and got our first Thai massages there. A couple years ago I got it into my head to either go to Thai massage school or Thai kickboxing school, but after going to a kickboxing match last year I realized there was absolutely no way I was going to kickboxing school.
So I signed up for the week-long class at Wat Po. Back in December, when I registered for the class, i asked if it would be taught in English. They assured me it would, and I was happy I wouldn't have to study in Thai. They were right; I didn't. Instead, I studied in Japanese, because the class consisted of me and 13 Japanese people. As a result, I felt like I was falling behind the others, and I knew I needed a little extra practice beyond what I was getting in the class.
One night I went in search of a massage shop that would let me pay for a massage but practice on one of the cute boys (I was tired of massaging my fat Japanese classmate who sweats all the time). At the first place the flirty little queen tried to get me in to give me a massage and then I said "how about this instead...?" and suddenly he wasn't quite so cocky. His friends were egging him on but finally he said "is not allow." So I went to another place closer to my hotel and after some confusion (the language barrier doesn't help, plus let's face it, it's not a common request) they said yes, and the guy I worked on was actually quite helpful with suggestions. Afterwards I got an oil massage from him to make it worth his time and I probably tipped more than I should have, but I appreciated their flexibility. I got his e-mail and we stayed in touch for a few months.
As I was leaving some of the other guys were talking to me and asked why I am stydying massage and I said "I want to be a massage boy...maybe I can get a job here." They didn't think I was kidding, and looked a little concerned, but I cleared things up. :P Anyway, during the rest of my time there the guys were always very friendly and would call out "Hey, number-one massage boy!" when they saw me passing by.
Hmmmm, I should have asked for one of their cute little uniforms.
A few hours after the Hong Kong Marathon I settled into a Thai Airways plane and headed to Bangkok. I got to my hotel around 10pm, and normally this would be followed by a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a dipping of the toes into the local nightlife. This time, however, I was exhausted and needed to head to bed, and not just because of the marathon...I was also starting massage class Monday morning.
I was in Bangkok to take a Thai massage class at the Wat Po School, which is a pretty famous massage school. I first got the idea back in 2005 when Adrian and I visited and got our first Thai massages there. A couple years ago I got it into my head to either go to Thai massage school or Thai kickboxing school, but after going to a kickboxing match last year I realized there was absolutely no way I was going to kickboxing school.
So I signed up for the week-long class at Wat Po. Back in December, when I registered for the class, i asked if it would be taught in English. They assured me it would, and I was happy I wouldn't have to study in Thai. They were right; I didn't. Instead, I studied in Japanese, because the class consisted of me and 13 Japanese people. As a result, I felt like I was falling behind the others, and I knew I needed a little extra practice beyond what I was getting in the class.
One night I went in search of a massage shop that would let me pay for a massage but practice on one of the cute boys (I was tired of massaging my fat Japanese classmate who sweats all the time). At the first place the flirty little queen tried to get me in to give me a massage and then I said "how about this instead...?" and suddenly he wasn't quite so cocky. His friends were egging him on but finally he said "is not allow." So I went to another place closer to my hotel and after some confusion (the language barrier doesn't help, plus let's face it, it's not a common request) they said yes, and the guy I worked on was actually quite helpful with suggestions. Afterwards I got an oil massage from him to make it worth his time and I probably tipped more than I should have, but I appreciated their flexibility. I got his e-mail and we stayed in touch for a few months.
As I was leaving some of the other guys were talking to me and asked why I am stydying massage and I said "I want to be a massage boy...maybe I can get a job here." They didn't think I was kidding, and looked a little concerned, but I cleared things up. :P Anyway, during the rest of my time there the guys were always very friendly and would call out "Hey, number-one massage boy!" when they saw me passing by.
Hmmmm, I should have asked for one of their cute little uniforms.
Labels: Travel
