We probably have all walked into a scenario where we walk into an AMP, and we are led into a room by the MILF Mamasan, or a pretty AMP girl and told to get comfortable, take our clothes off, and wait in anticipation for our "asian angel" to appear. And, instead, to our utter horror, an "overweight silverback orangutan" struggles through the doorframe.
As a "Genus Homo Sapien," with distinct memory in our DNA, of being in the wild with stronger predators, the "fight or flight" mechanism becomes activated, after the initial shiver of shear fear electrifies our nervous system. Many times, our modern 21st Century intellect intercedes, and we slowly arise (no sudden movements ) and thoughtfully, intelligently report that we left we left our cash in the car, or I just got a text from the fire department that my house is burning to the ground, and must leave immediately, escape, and probably don't even go to another AMP that night, unable to shake off the post traumatic stress.
However, after you shake off the initial shock and horror and if you are too tired to get your lazy ass off the table, I have many times gone to "Plan B," which is to put that "extraordinary mass" to good work. I mean, purely from an economics point of view, I have paid thrice the door fee to have three women walk on my back in Flushing, plus tipping them all.
So, when I needed a good "backwalking," back when the fee in Flushing was only $30 or $40 an hour for legit massage, I would shell out $100 or more for the door fee, plus $20 each for a legit tip. But, man, I came out of there like a new man, "steamrolled."
Now, here I am, faced with "three-girls-in-one," for the single price of one attendant, (bargain) 200 plus pounds of a "weapon of mass destruction" for my tight tendons and muscles. I break the news to the sumo wresler, that if she wants me to stay, she is walking on my entire body, front and back. Oftentimes, she disappear and seeks refuge in her owner and they both will reappear to do a "sanity check" on me, and sometimes offer up the original "asian angel," or if the mamasan is just "pure greed," she will work out the details with me, logistically, on how this "suicide mission" will be accomplished, warning me of the fear of grave injury, broken ribs, et cetera. And, we go through with it.
My lovely intelligent daughter whom I adore, and I, met up on her birthday, and daddy was treating her to a leisurely lunch with some alcohol and a 90 minute thai massage, "appointment only," at a very reputable and reliable Thai Massage Salon.
We had our delicious light lunch and I took in a couple of those beers that are aged in bourbon whiskey barrels on an extremely hot afternoon in the subtropics. Those beers in that country were really high alcohol content, thinking that they dropped a shot of bourbon in each one. There was no English on the bottles, so I don't know.
We stayed late in the restaurant enjoying memories and realized that her appointment for massage was upon us and we scurried out of the restaurant and walked into the massage shop, with me feeling no pain and very humble and happy. Only my daughter was scheduled for a massage and I would wait for her.
Her sweet Thai attendant, not much older than my daughter appears, and if I were there alone, I would be quite pleased. And, the cute Thai mamasan asked me if I also didn't want a massage instead of waiting in the lobby. My daughter insisted, and I was feeling nice and I said why not, thinking that I might get a clone of the cute Thai that my daughter got, or a near version.
I go to my luxurious Thai massage room, artistic, scented, clean, comfortable, "drunk" and what appears before my very eyes was a "sixty year old "hippopotamus." But, being "tipsy" and the fact that I am with my daughter, and don't want to be a "buzz-kill," or make a scene, I tell her that she is backwalking and front-walking me. I tell her my requirements, and she looks stunned and asked me if I was blind, and I told her that she is smaller than most women that give me massages (remember "tipsy") and in fact, I would have hoped that she weighed a few more pounds and that she is too skinny for my taste and that I like big women and that asian spinners are useless. (a blatant outright whimsical lie) (remember a bit "tipsy")
She used a step stool to get "get on board" giggled and danced and called out to the entire spa to leave their stations and have a peek at her, the two ton ballerina, doing it just like the young babes. Mamasan and about eight other girls all stuffed themselves in my room aghast and laughing -- they left their customers.
Anyway, it was unforgettable, because it made my daughter and everybody laugh, and it was a good massage for that genre. Anyway, later in the day, I could take care of what never got taken care of in all the frivolity.
(WARNING: When walking on your front, do be careful that they don't slip on your thighs and smash into your balls. That can happen and that can hurt!!!)