Monday, March 14, 2011

Vic's Synchronized Male Massage


From Hampi, we take the overnight train into Bangaluru and then transfer in the morning to another train for a 3 hour ride to Mysore.  For Ashtanga loving yogi’s, Mysore is the birthplace and go to destination if you want to study with the grandson of Sri Pattabi Jois, the founder of Ashtanga yoga.  It is also home to the largest palace in India.
Since it’s my birthday weekend, we decide to “splurge” and spend a whopping $20 for a room.  It’s double what we’ve been paying for accommodation, but for that extra $10, we get a modern hotel room fully equipped with tv, towels and toilet paper!  After check in, we spend the afternoon walking around and checking out Mysore Palace.
The next day is my birthday and we decide to ditch an all-day city tour and opt for something a little more relaxing.  We spend the morning walking around a small lake in a nature reserve bird sanctuary and do a little bird watching.  In the afternoon, we head to the swankiest resort in town for a nice lunch followed by an afternoon of spa treatments.
I had already had a couple of Ayurveda massages so I had a general idea of what to expect.  Vic had wanted to get a massage previously but hadn’t done so as he had preferred to get massaged by a female.  Unfortunately for him, in India, women massage women and men massage men.  As was the case at this particular spa.  But since the spa we were going to had won a number of awards, Vic finally conceded and decided to give it a try.
You can’t really be shy if you decide to do an Ayurveda massage.  Wearing nothing but disposable underwear, the ladies have no qualms about asking you to lie down on your back, ta ta's fully exposed.  No strategic placing of the towels here.  You then have oil poured all over you (hence, the disposable underwear) and then have, not one, but two people massaging you at the same time.  In perfect synchronicity like a little dance, they stroke your body in long fluid movements in perfect harmony.  Up and down the arms, back, sides, legs, fingers and toes.  They pretty much covered my whole body, even doing figure eights around my ta ta’s.
After my two hour treatment, I came out and looked for Vic, who was already finished and waiting by the pool.  “How was it?” I asked.
“Well, I feel really relaxed, but…”
“But what?”
Vic paused for a second, “I feel kinda violated”.
I tried to suppress my laughter.  “And why is that?”
“Well first, they put me in this diaper….”
“You mean the disposable underwear?” 
“Ya, the two big white triangles attached with strings.  Anyways, I come out wearing it and they ask me to sit in a chair and start pouring oil all over me, rubbing my head, shoulders and back.”
I nodded, “sounds like mine”.
“Well, that part was ok, but when they got me to lie down on the table and started doing the synchronized massage thing, there were parts that made me a bit uncomfortable.  Like when they did the motion of stroking up my ribcage and then up the arms.”  Vic winced before continuing, “Oh, and then, when they flipped me onto my front, they scrunched up the underwear into my butt crack like a g-string and started to massage my butt cheek down to my legs and then my tailbone to my neck.  That was kinda weird too” 
I pictured the sight and couldn’t help it, I laughed. 
“I could have sworn they touched my nob in the process, but I tried not to think about it.”  Oh boy.  More laughing on my end. 
“I just don’t think I’m into the idea of a male synchronized massage.  I mean, it was relaxing, but still…”
“So does that mean no more massages for you in India?” I asked.
Vic paused, “Probably not.”
“Ok babe, that’s fine.”  I said.